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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 

1980 


Technical  Notes  /  Notes  techniques 


The  InstitutH  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Physical 
features  of  i:his  copy  which  may  alter  any  of  the 
images  in  the  reproduction  are  checked  below. 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couvertures  de  couleur 


Coloured  maps/ 

Carles  g^ographiques  en  couleur 


L'Institut  3  microfilmd  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  4t6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Certains 
difauts  susceptibles  de  nuire  d  la  quality  de  la 
reproduction  sont  notds  ci-dessous. 


Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 


Coloured  plates/ 
Planches  en  couleur 


Th( 
po) 
of 
filr 


Th( 
coi 
or 
api 

Th( 
filr 
ins 


0 


Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  ddcolordes,  tachetdes  ou  piqudes 


Tight  binding  (may  cause  shadows  or 
distortion  along  interior  margin)/ 
Reliure  serrd  (peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou 
de  la  distortion  le  long  de  la  marge 
intdrieurs) 


rri       Show  through/ 


D 


Transparence 


Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagdes 


Ma 
in  I 
upi 
bol 
foil 


D 


Additional  comments/ 
Commentaires  suppl^mentaires 


Bibliographic  Notes  /  Notes  bibliographiques 


D 
D 
D 


Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 


Bound  with  other  material/ 
Relid  avec  d'autres  documents 


Cover  title  missing/ 

Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


D 
D 
D 


Pagination  incorrect/ 
Erreurs  de  pagination 


Pages  missing/ 
Des  pages  manquent 


Maps  missing/ 

Des  cartes  gdographiques  manquent 


D 


Plates  missing/ 

Des  planches  manquent 


n 


Additional  comments/ 
Commentaires  suppl6mentaires 


The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche  shall 
contain  the  symbol  •^►(meaning  CONTINUED"), 
or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"),  whichever 
applies. 


Les  images  suivantes  ont  6t6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nettet6  de  I'exemplaire  film6,  et  en 
conformity  <<vec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaftra  sur  la  der- 
nidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le  cas: 
le  symbole  ••~^'  signifie  "A  SUIVR:!",  le  symbole 
V  signifie  "FIN". 


The  original  copy  was  borrowed  from,  and 
filmed  with,  the  kind  consent  of  the  following 
institution: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


L'exemplaire  film6  fut  reproduit  grdce  d  la 
gdndrositd  de  I'dtablissement  prdteur 
suivant  : 

Bibliothdque  nationale  du  Canada 


Maps  or  plates  too  large  to  be  entirely  included 
in  one  exposure  are  filmed  beginning  in  the 
upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to  right  and  top  to 
bottom,  as  many  frames  as  required.  The 
following  diagrams  illustrate  the  method: 


Les  cartes  ou  les  planches  trop  grandes  pour  dtre 
reproduites  en  un  seul  clich6  sont  filmdes  d 
partir  de  Tangle  supdrieure  gauche,  de  gauche  d 
droite  et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  ndcessaire.  Le  diagramme  suivant 
illustre  la  mdthode  : 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

6 

6 

One  Day^s  Courtship 

AND 

The  Heralds  of  Fame. 


^*Thc   Newport    Series  ^^ 


OF  MODERN  FICTION. 


A  WOMAN  WITH  A  FUTURE* 

By  Mrs«  Andrew  Dean. 


A  MASTER  OF  FORTUNE. 

By  Julian  Sturgis* 


ONE  DAY^S  COURTSHIP. 

By  Robert  Barr. 


A  FULL  CONFESSION 


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ONE  DAY'S 
COURTSHIP 


AND 

THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME 


BY  ROBERT  BARR 


Author  of  "A  Woman  Intervenes," 
"  In  the  Midst  of  Alarms," 
"The  Face  and  the  Mask," 
"From  Whose  Bourne,"  Etc. 


WITH  frontispiece  by 

E.  FREDERICK 


'Mevo  liotli  ant)  XonDon 

FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


irr 


^c'l- rr'\  R. 


Copyright,  1896,  by 
FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 


.'  «■!  fit  ,< 


One  Day's  Courtship. 


CHAPTER  I. 


John  Trenton,  artist,  put  the  finish- 
ing touches  to  the  letter  he  was  writing, 
and  then  read  it  over  to  himself.  It  ran 
as  follows : — 

"  My  dear  Ed., 

"  I  sail  for  England  on  the 
1i^th.  But  before  I  leave  I  want  to  have 
another  look  at  the  Shawenegan  Falls. 
Their  roar  has  been  in  my  ears  ever  since 
I  left  there.  That  tremendous  hillside 
of  foam  is  before  my  eyes  night  and  day. 
The  sketches  I  took  are  not  at  all  satis- 
factory, so  this  time  I  will  bring  my 
camera  with  me,  and  try  to  get  some 
snapshots  at  the  falls. 

"  Now,  what  I  ask  is  this.  I  want  you  to 
hold  that  canoe  for  me  against  all  comers 


2  OhIE  DAY  S  COURTSHIP. 

for  Tuesday.  Also,  those  two  expert 
half-breeds.  Tell  them  I  am  coming,  and 
that  there  is  money  in  it  if  they  take  me 
up  and  back  as  safely  as  they  did  before. 
I  don't  suppose  there  will  be  much  de- 
mand for  the  canoe  on  that  day  ;  in  fact, 
it  astonishes  me  that  Americans,  who 
app  ciate  the  good  things  of  our  country 
better  than  we  do  ourselves,  practically 
know  nothing  of  this  superb  cataract 
right  at  their  own  doors.  I  suppose 
your  new  canoe  is  not  finished  yet,  and 
as  the  others  are  up  in  the  woods  I 
write  so  that  you  will  keep  this  particu- 
lar craft  for  me.  I  do  not  wish  to  take 
any  risks,  as  I  leave  so  soon.  Please 
drop  me  a  note  to  this  hotel  at  Quebec, 
and  I  will  meet  you  in  Le  Gres  on  Tues- 
day morning  at  daybreak. 
"Your  friend, 

"  John  Trenton." 


Mason  was  a  millionaire  and  a  lumber 
king,  but  every  one  called  him  Ed.  He 
owned  baronial  estates  in  the  pine  woods, 
and  saw-mills  without  number.  Trenton 
had  brought  a  letter  of  introduction  to 
him  from  a  mutual  friend  in  Quebec,  who 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP.  5 

had  urged  the  artist  to  visit  the  Shawene- 
gan  Falls.  He  heard  the  Englishman 
inquire  about  the  cataract,  and  told  him 
that  he  knew  the  man  who  would  give 
him  every  facility  for  reaching  the  falls. 
Trenton's  acquaintance  with  Mason  was 
about  a  fortnight  old,  but  already  they 
were  the  firmest  of  friends.  Any  one 
who  appreciated  the  Shawenegan  Falls 
found  a  ready  path  to  the  heart  of  the 
big  lumberman.  It  was  almost  impossi- 
ble to  reach  the  falls  without  the  assist- 
ance of  Mto  Mason.  However,  he  was  no 
monopolist.  Any  person  wishing  to  visit 
the  cataract  got  a  canoe  from  the  lumber 
king  free  of  all  cost,  except  a  tip  to  the 
two  boatmen  who  acted  as  guides  and 
watermen.  The  artist  had  not  long  to 
wait  for  his  answer.     It  was — 

"  Mv  DEAR  John, 

"  The  canoe  is  yours ;  the 
boatmen  are  yours  :  and  the  Shawenegan 
is  yours  for  Tuesdc-y.     Also, 

"  I  am  yours, 

"E.  Mason." 


On    Monday   evening    John    Trenton 
stepped  off  the  C.  P.  R.  train  at  Three 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


Rivers.  With  a  roughing-it  suit  on,  and 
his  camera  slung  over  his  shoulders,  no 
•one  would  have  taken  him  for  the  suc- 
cessful landscape  artist  who  on  Picca- 
dilly was  somewhat  particular  about  his 
attire. 

John  Trenton  was  not  yet  R.A.,  nor 
even  A.R.A.,  but  all  his  friends  would  tell 
you  that,  if  the  Royal  Academy  was  not 
governed  by  a  clique,  he  would  have  been 
admitted  long  ago,  and  that  anyhow  it 
was  only  a  question  of  time.  In  fact, 
John  admitted  this  to  himself,  but  to  no 
one  else. 

He  entered  the  ramshackle  'bus,  and 
was  driven  a  long  distance  through  very 
sandy  streets  to  the  hotel  on  the  St. 
Lawrence,  and,  securing  a  room,  made 
arrangements  to  be  called  before  day- 
break. He  engaged  the  same  driver 
who  had  taken  him  out  to  "  The  Greys," 
as  it  was  locally  called,  on  the  occasion 
of  his  former  visit. 

The  morning  was  cold  and  dark. 
Trenton  found  the  buckboard  at  the 
door,  and  he  put  his  camera  under  the 
one  seat — a  kind  of  a  box  for  the  holding 
of  bits  of  harness  and  other  odds  and 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


ends.  As  he  buttoned  up  his  overcoat  he 
noticed  that  a  great  white  pteamer  had 
come  in  the  night,  and  was  tied  up  in 
front  of  the  hotel. 

"The  Montreal  boat,"  explained  the 
driver. 

As  they  drove  along  the  silent  streets 
of  Three  Rivers,  Trenton  called  to  mind 
how,  on  the  former  occasion,  he  thought 
the  Lower  Canada  buckboard  by  all  odds 
the  most  uncomfortable  vehicle  he  had 
ever  ridden  in,  and  he  felt  that  his  present 
experience  was  going  to  corroborate  this 
first  impression.  The  seat  was  set  in  the 
centre,  between  the  front  and  back 
wheels,  on  springy  boards,  and  every 
time  the  conveyance  jolted  over  a  log — a 
not  unfrequent  occurrence — the  seat  went 
down  and  the  back  bent  forward,  as  if  to- 
throw  him  over  on  the  heels  of  the  patient 
horse. 

The  road  at  first  was  long  and  straight 
and  sandy,  but  during  the  latter  part  of 
the  ride  there  were  plenty  of  hills,  up 
many  of  which  a  plank  roadway  ran  ;  so 
that  loads  which  it  would  be  impossible 
to  take  through  the  deep  sand,  might  be 
hauled  up  the  steep  incline. 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


At  first  the  houses  they  passed  had  a 
dark  and  deserted  look  ;  then  a  light 
twinkled  here  and  there.  The  early  hab- 
itant was  making  his  fire.  As  daylight 
began  gradually  to  bring  out  the  land- 
scape, the  sharp  sound  of  the  distant  axe 
was  heard.  The  early  habitant  was  lay- 
ing in  his  day's  supply  of  firewood. 

"  Do  you  notice  how  the  dawn  slowly 
materialises  the  landscape  ? "  said  the 
artist  to  the  boy  beside  him. 

The  boy  saw  nothing  wonderful  about 
that.     Daylight  always  did  it. 

"  Then  it  is  not  unusual  in  these  parts  ? 
You  see,  I  am  very  seldom  up  at  this 
hour." 

The  boy  wished  that  was  his  case 

"  Does  it  not  remind  you  of  a  photog- 
rapher in  a  dark  room  carefully  develop- 
ing a  landsca^je  plate  ?  Not  one  of  those 
rapid  plates,  you  know,  but  a  slow,  delib- 
erate plate." 

No,  it  didn't  remind  him  of  anything 
of  the  kind.  He  had  never  seen  either  a 
slow  or  a  rapid  plate  developed, 

"Then  you  have  no  prejudices  as  to 
which  is  the  best  developer,  pyrogallic 
acid  or  ferrous  oxalate,  not  to  mention 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


such  recent  decoctions  as  eikonogen, 
quinol,  and  others  ?" 

No,  the  boy  had  none. 

"Well,  that's  what  I  like.  I  like  a 
young  man  whose  mind  is  open  to  con- 
viction." 

The  boy  was  not  a  conversational  suc- 
cess. He  evidently  did  not  enter  into  the 
spirit  of  the  artist's  remarks.  He  said 
most  people  got  off  at  that  point  and 
walked  to  warm  up,  and  asked  Trenton  if 
he  would  not  like  to  follow  their  example. 

"  No,  my  boy,"  said  the  Englishman, 
"  I  don't  think  I  shall.  You  see,  I  have 
paid  for  this  ride,  and  I  want  to  get  all  I 
can  out  of  it.  I  shall  shiver  he  e  and 
try  to  get  the  worth  of  my  money.  But 
with  you  it  is  different.  If  you  vant  to 
get  down,  do  so.     I  will  drive." 

The  boy  willingly  handed  over  the 
reins,  and  sprang  out  on  the  road.  Tren- 
ton, who  was  a  boy  himself  that  morning, 
at  once  whipped  up  the  horse  and  dashed 
down  the  hill  to  get  away  from  the  driver. 
When  a  good  half-mile  had  been  worried 
out  of  the  astonished  animal,  Trenton 
looked  back  to  see  the  driver  come  pant- 
ing after.     The   young  man    was  calmly 


s 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


Ml':' 


III  K 
Hi!!- 


sitting  on  the  back  part  of  the  buckboard, 
and  when  the  horse  began  to  walk  again, 
the  boy  slid  off,  and,  without  a  smile  on 
his  face,  trotted  along  at  the  side. 

'That  fellow  has  evidently  a  quiet 
sense  of  humour,  although  he  is  so  care- 
ful not  to  show  it,"  said  Trenton  to  him- 
self. 

On  reaching  the  hilltop,  they  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  rim  of  the  sun  rising  glo- 
riously over  the  treetops  on  the  other 
side  of  the  St.  Maurice  River.  Trenton 
stopped  the  horse,  and  the  boy  looked  up 
to  see  what  was  wrong.  He  could  not  im- 
agine any  one  stopping  merely  to  look  at 
the  sun. 

"Isn't  that  splendid  ?  "  cried  Trenton, 
with  a  deep  breath,  as  he  watched  the 
great  globe  slowly  ascend  into  the  sky. 
The  distant  branches  of  the  trees  were 
delicately  etched  against  its  glowing  sur- 
face, and  seemed  to  cling  to  it  like  tendrils, 
slipping  further  and  further  down  as  the 
sun  leisurely  disentangled  itself,  and  at 
last  stood  in  its  incomparable  grandeur 
full  above  the  forest. 

The  woods  all  around  had  on  their 
marvellous   autumn   tints,  and   now   the 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


[board, 
;  again, 
nile  on 

1  quiet 
,0  care- 
to  him- 

;aught  a 
iing  glo-. 
le  other 
Trenton 
loked  up 
i  not  im- 
D  look  at 

Trenton, 
:hed  the 
the  sky. 
-es  were 
ving  sur- 
tendrils, 
rn  as  the 
and  at 
randeur 

on   their 
mow   the 


sun  added  a  living  lustre  to  them  that 
made  the  landscape  more  brilliant  than 
anything  the  artist  had  ever  seen  be- 
fore. 

"  Ye  gods  !  "  he  cried  enthusiastically, 
"that  scene  is  worth  coming  from  Eng- 
land to  have  one  glimpse  of." 

"  See  here,"  said  the  driver,  "  if  you 
want  to  catch  Ed.  Mason  before  he's  gone 
to  the  woods  you'll  have  to  hurry  up. 
It's  getting  late.'' 

"  True,  O  driver.  You  have  brought 
me  from  the  sun  to  the  earth.  Have  you 
ever  heard  of  the  person  who  fell  from 
the  sun  to  the  earth  ?  " 

No,  he  hadn't. 

"Well,  that  was  before  your  time. 
You  will  never  take  such  a  tumble.  I 
suppose  they  don't  worship  the  sun  in 
these  parts  ?" 

No,  they  didn't. 

"When  you  come  to  think  of  it,  that  is 
very  strange.  Have  you  ever  reflected 
that  it  is  always  in  warm  countries  they 
worship  the  sun  ?  Now,  I  should  think 
it  ought  to  be  just  the  other  way  about. 
Do  you  know  that  when  I  got  on  with 
you  this  morning  I  was  eighty  years  old, 


iMrii 


lO 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


every  day  of  it.  What  do  you  think  my 
age  is  now  ?  " 

"  Eighty  years,  sir." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  I'm  eighteen.  The 
sun  did  it.  And  yet  they  claim  there  is 
no  fountain  of  youth.  What  fools  people 
are,  my  boy  !  " 

The  young  man  looked  at  his  fare  slyly, 
and  cordially  agreed  with  him. 

"  You  certainly  have  a  concealed  sense 
of  humour,"  said  the  artist. 

They  wound  down  a  deep  cut  in  the  hill, 
and  got  a  view  of  the  lumber  village — 
their  destination.  The  roar  of  the  waters 
tumbling  over  the  granite  rocks — the 
rocks  from  which  the  village  takes  its 
name — came  up  the  ravine.  The  broad 
river  swept  in  a  great  semicircle  to  their 
right,  and  its  dark  waters  were  flecked 
with  the  foam  of  the  small  falls  near  the 
village,  and  the  great  cataract  miles  up 
the  river.  It  promised  to  be  a  perfect 
autumn  day.  The  sky,  which  had  seemed 
to  Trer  .on  overcast  when  they  started, 
was  now  one  deep  dome  of  blue  without 
even  the  suggestion  of  a  cloud. 

The  buckboard  drew  up  at  the  gate  of 
the   house   in   which    Mr.    Mason   lived 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


II 


link  my 


n.  The 
there  is 
s  people 

ire  slyly, 

ed  sense 

1  the  hill, 
village — 
le  waters 
)cks — the 
takes  its 
'he  broad 
J  to  their 
3   flecked 
near  the 
miles  up 
a  perfect 
,d  seemed 
y  started, 
i   without 


e 
son 


gate  of 
lived 


when  he  was  in  the  lumber  village, 
although  his  home  was  at  Three  Rivers. 
The  old  Frenchwoman,  Mason's  house- 
keeper, opened  the  door  for  Trenton, 
and  he  remembered  as  he  went  in  how  the 
exquisite  cleanliness  of  everything  had 
impressed  him  during  his  former  visit. 
She  smiled  as  she  recognised  the  genial 
Englishman.  She  had  not  forgotten  his 
compliments  in  her  own  language  on  her 
housekeeping  some  months  before,  and 
perhaps  she  also  remembered  his  liberal- 
ity. Mr.  Mason,  she  said,  had  gone  to 
the  river  to  see  after  the  canoe,  leaving 
word  that  he  would  return  in  a  few 
minutes.  Trenton,  who  knew  the  house, 
opened  the  door  at  his  right,  to  enter  the 
sitting-room  and  leave  there  his  morning 
wraps,  which  the  increasing  warmth  ren- 
dered no  longer  necessary.  As  he  burst 
into  the  room  in  his  impetuous  way,  he 
was  taken  aback  to  see  standing  at  the 
window,  looking  out  towards  the  river,  a 
a  tall  young  woman.  Without  changing 
her  position,  she  looked  slowly  around  at 
the  intruder.  Trenton's  first  thought 
was  a  hasty  wish  that  he  were  better 
dressed.     His  roughing-it  costume,  which 


12 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


up  to  that  time  had  seemed  so  comfort- 
able, now  appeared  uncouth  and  out  of 
place.  He  felt  as  if  he  had  suddenly 
found  himself  in  a  London  drawing-room 
with  a  shooting-jacket  on.  But  this 
sensation  was  quickly  effaced  by  the 
look  which  the  beauty  gave  him  over  her 
shoulder.  Trenton,  in  all  his  experience, 
had  never  encountered  such  a  glance  of 
indignant  scorn.  It  was  a  look  of  resent- 
ment and  contempt,  with  just  a  dash  of 
feminine  reproach  in  it. 

"  What  have  I  done  ? "  thought  the 
unhappy  man  ;  then  he  stammered  aloud, 
"  I — I — really — I  beg  your  pardon.  I 
thought  the — ah — room  was  empty." 

The  imperious  young  woman  made  no 
reply.  She  turned  to  the  window  again, 
and  Trenton  backed  out  of  the  room  as 
best  he  could. 

"  Well ! "  he  said  to  himself,  as  he 
breathed  with  relief  the  outside  air  again, 
*'that  was  the  rudest  thing  I  ever  knew  a 
lady  to  do.  She  is  a  lady,  there  is  no 
doubt  of  that.  There  is  nothing  of  the 
backwoods  about  hen  But  she  might  at 
least  have  answered  me.  What  have  I 
done,  I  wonder?     It  must  be  somethinc: 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


13 


)ty." 

made  no 
3W  again, 
room  as 

f,  as  he 
air  again, 
r  knew  a 
ere  is  no 
ngof  the 
might  at 
it  have  I 
omething 


terrible  and  utterly  unforgivable,  what- 
ever it  is.  Great  heavens  !  "  he  mur- 
mured, aghast  at  the  thought,  "  I  hope 
that  girl  isn't  going  up  to  the  Shawenegan 
Falls." 

Trenton  was  no  ladies*  man.  The  pres- 
ence of  women  always  disconcerted  him, 
and  made  him  feel  awkward  and  boorish. 
He  had  been  too  much  of  a  student  in 
higher  art  to  acquire  the  smaller  art  of 
the  drawing-room.  He  felt  ill  at  ease  in 
society,  and  seemed  to  have  a  fatal  pre- 
dilection for  saying  the  wrong  thing,  and 
suffered  the  torture  afterwards  of  remem- 
bering what  the  right  thing  would  have 
been. 

Trenton  stood  at  the  gate  for  a  mo- 
ment, hoping  Mason  would  come.  Sud- 
denly he  remembered  with  confusion 
that  he  was  directly  in  range  of  those 
disdainful  eyes  in  the  parlour,  and  he 
beat  a  hasty  retreat  toward  the  old  mill 
that  stood  by  the  falls.  The  roar  of  the 
turbulent  water  over  the  granite  rocks 
had  a  soothing  effect  on  the  soul  of  the 
man  who  knew  he  was  a  criminal,  yet 
could  not  for  the  life  of  him  tell  what  his 
crime   had  been.     Then  he  wandered  up 


14 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


J^ 


the  river-bank  toward  where  he  saw  the 
two  half-breeds  placing  the  canoe  in  the 
still  water  at  the  further  end  of  the  vil- 
lage. Half-way  there  he  was  relieved  to 
meet  the  genial  Ed.  Mason,  who  greeted 
him,  as  Trenton  thought,  with  a  some- 
what overwrought  effusion.  There  evi- 
dently was  something  on  the  genial  Ed.'s 
mind. 

"  Hello,  old  man,"  he  cried,  shaking 
Trenton  warmly  by  the  hand.  "  Been 
here  long?  Well,  I  declare,  I'm  glad  to 
see  you.  Going  to  have  a  splendid  day 
for  it,  aren't  you  ?  Yes,  sir,  I  am  glad  to 
see  you." 

"When  a  man  says  that  twice  in  one 
breath,  a  fellow  begins  to  doubt  him. 
Now,  you  good-natured  humbug,  what's 
the  matter  ?  What  have  I  done  ?  How 
did  you  find  me  out  ?  Who  turned  Queen's 
evidence  ?  Look  here,  Edward  Mason, 
why  are  you  not  glad  to  see  me  ?  " 

"  Nonsense  ;  you  know  I  am.  No  one 
could  be  more  welcome.  By  the  way, 
my  wife's  here.  You  never  met  her,  I 
think  ?  " 

"  I  saw  a  young  lady  remarkably " 

"  No,  no  ;  that    is   Miss By  the 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


15 


be  saw  the 
inoe  in  the 
of  the  vil- 
relieved  to 
ho  greeted 
1  a  some- 
rhere  evi- 
;enial  Ed.'s 

d,  shaking 
d.  "  Been 
'm  glad  to 
lendid  day 
am  glad  to 


>4 

■I 


way,  Trenton,  I  want  you  to  do  me  a 
favour,  now  that  I  think  of  it.  Of  course 
the  canoe  is  yours  for  to-day,  but  that 
young  woman  wants  to  go  up  to  the  Sha- 
wenegan.  You  wouldn't  mind  her  going 
up  with  you,  would  you  ?  You  see,  I 
have  no  other  canoe  to-day,  and  she  can't 
stay  till  to-morrow." 

"I  shall   be   delighted,  I'm   sure,"  an- 
swered Trenton.     But  he  didn't  look  it. 


ice  m  one 
loubt  him. 
ug,  what's 
ne  ?  How 
ed  Queen's 
rd   Mason, 

^   • 

I.  No  one 
•  the  way, 
met   her,  I 


'•*? 


1 


:ably- 


Bv  the 


CHAPTER  II. 


Eva  Sommerton,  of  Boston,  knew  that 
she  lived  in  the  right  portion  of  that  justly 
celebrated  city,  and  this  knowledge  was 
evident  in  the  poise  of  her  queenly  head, 
and  in  every  movement  of  her  graceful 
form.  Blundering  foreigners — foreigners 
as  far  as  Boston  is  concerned,  although 
they  may  be  citizens  of  the  United  States 
— considered  Boston  to  be  a  large  city,  with 
commerce  and  railroads  and  busy  streets 
and  enterprising  newspapers,  but  the  true 
IJostonian  knows  that  this  view  is  very  in- 
correct. The  real  Boston  is  penetrated  by 
no  railroads.  Even  the  jingle  of  the 
street-car  bell  does  not  disturb  the  silence 
of  the  streets  of  this  select  city.  It  is  to 
the  ordinary  Boston  what  the  empty, 
out-of-season  London  is  to  the  rest  of  the 
busy  metropolis.  The  stranger,  jostled  by 
the  throng,  may  not  notice  that  London  is 
en  pty,  but  his  lordship,  if  he  happens  dur- 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP, 


17 


ing  the  deserted  period  to  pass  through, 
knows  there  is  not  a  soul  in  town. 

Miss  Sommerton  had  many  delusions, 
but  fortunately  for  her  peace  of  mind  she 
had  never  yet  met  a  candid  friend  with 
courage  enough  to  tell  her  so.  It  would 
have  required  more  bravery  than  the  or- 
dinary society  person  possesses  to  tell 
Miss  Sommerton  about  any  of  her  faults. 
The  young  gentlemen  of  her  acquaintance 
claimed  that  she  had  no  faults,  and  if  her 
lady  friends  thought  otherwise,  they  re- 
served the  expression  of  such  opinions 
for  social  gatherings  not  graced  by  the 
presence  of  Miss  Sommerton. 

Eva  Sommerton  thought  she  was  not 
proud,  or  if  there  was  any  tinge  of  pride 
in  her  character,  it  was  pride  of  the  neces- 
sary and  proper  sort. 

She  also  possessed  the  vain  belief  that 
true  merit  was  the  one  essential,  but  if 
true  merit  had  had  the  misfortune  to  be 
presented  to  Miss  Sommerton  without  an 
introduction  of  a  strictly  unimpeachable 
nature,  ther  is  every  reason  to  fear  true 
merit  would  not  have  had  the  exquisite 
privilege  of  basking  in  the  smiles  of  that 
young  Sostonian.     But  perhaps  her  chief 


It 


I 


i8 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


delusion  was  the  belief  that  she  was  an 
artist.  She  had  learned  all  that  Boston 
could  teach  of  drawing,  and  this  thin 
veneer  had  received  a  beautiful  foreign 
polish  abroad.  Her  friends  pronounced 
her  sketches  really  wonderful.  Perhaps 
if  Miss  Sommerton's  entire  capital  had 
been  something  less  than  her  half-yearly 
income,  she  might  have  made  a  name  for 
herself  ;  but  the  rich  man  gets  a  foretaste 
of  the  scriptural  difficulty  awaiting  him  at 
the  gates  of  heaven,  when  he  endeavours 
to  achieve  an  earthly  success,  the  price 
of  which  is  hard  labour,  and  not  hard 
cash. 

We  are  told  that  pride  must  have  a  fall, 
and  there  came  an  episode  in  Miss  Som- 
merton's career  as  an  artist  which  was  a 
rude  shock  to  her  self-complacency. 
Having  purchased  a  landscape  by  a  cele- 
brated artist  whose  work  '^he  had  long 
admired,  she  at  last  ventured  to  write  to 
him  and  enclose  some  of  her  own  sketches, 
with  a  request  for  a  candid  judgment  of 
them — that  is,  she  said  she  wanted  a  can- 
did judgment  of  them. 

The  reply  seemed  to  her  so  ungentle- 
manly,  and  so  harsh,  that,  in  her  vexation 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


19 


and  anger,  she  tore  the  letter  to  shreds 
and  stamped  her  pretty  foot  with  a  vehe- 
mence which  would  have  shocked  those 
who  knew  her  only  as  the  dignified  and 
self-possessed  Miss  Eva  Sommerton. 

Then  she  looker^  at  her  libelled  sketches, 
and  somehow  they  did  not  appear  to  be 
quite  so  faultless  as  she  had  supposed 
them  to  be. 

This  inspection  was  followed  by  a 
thoughtful  and  tearful  period  of  medita- 
tion ;  and  finally,  with  contriteness,  the 
young  woman  picked  up  from  her  studio 
floor  the  shreds  of  the  letter  and  pasted 
them  carefully  together  on  a  white  sheet 
of  paper,  in  which  form  she  still  preserved 
the  first  honest  opinion  she  had  ever  re- 
ceived. 

In  the  seclusion  of  her  aesthetic  studio 
Miss  Sommerton  made  a  heroic  resolve 
to  work  hard.  Her  life  was  to  be  conse- 
crated to  art.  She  would  win  reluctant 
recognition  from  the  masters.  Under 
all  this  wave  of  heroic  resolution  was  an 
under-current  of  determination  to  get 
even  with  the  artist  who  had  treated  her 
work  so  contemptuously. 

Few  of  us  quite  live  up  to  our  best  in- 


L-    •! 


W: 


20 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


tentions,  and  Miss  Sommerton  was  no  ex- 
ception to  the  rule.  She  did  not  work  as 
devotedly  as  she  had  hoped  to  do,  nor  did 
she  become  a  recluse  from  society.  A 
year  after  she  sent  to  the  artist  some 
sketches  which  she  had  taken  in  Quebec 
— some  unknown  waterfalls,  some  wild 
river  scenery — and  received  from  him  a 
warmer  letter  of  commendation  than  she 
had  hoped  for.  He  remembered  her  for- 
mer sketches,  and  now  saw  a  great  im- 
provement. If  the  waterfall  sketches 
were  not  exaggerations,  he  would  like  to 
see  the  originals.  Where  were  they  ? 
The  lady  was  proud  of  her  discoveries  in 
the  almost  unknown  land  of  Northern 
Quebec,  and  she  wrote  a  long  letter  tell- 
ino-  all  about  them,  and  a  polite  note  of 
thanks  for  the  information  ended  the  cor- 
respondence. 

Miss  Sommerton's  favourite  discovery 
was  that  tremendous  downward  plunge  of 
the  St.  Maurice,  the  Falls  of  Shawenegan. 
She  had  sketched  it  from  a  dozen  differ- 
ent standpoints,  and  raved  about  it  to  her 
friends,  if  such  a  dignified  young  person 
as  Miss  Sommerton  could  be  said  to  rave 
over  anything.     Some  Boston  people,  on 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP, 


21 


her  recommendation,  had  visited  the  falls, 
but  their  account  of  the  journey  made  so 
much  of  the  difficulties  and  discomforts, 
and  so  little  of  the  magnificence  of  the 
cataract,  that  our  amateur  artist  resolved 
to  keep  the  falls,  as  it  were,  to  herself. 
She  made  yearly  pilgrimages  to  the  St. 
Maurice,  and  came  to  have  a  kind  of  idea  of 
possession  which  always  amused  Mr.  Ma- 
son. She  seemed  to  resent  the  fact  that 
others  went  to  look  at  the  falls,  and,  wopse 
than  all,  took  picnic  baskets  tnere,  actually 
lunching  on  its  sacred  shores,  leaving 
empty  champagne  bottles  and  boxes  of 
sardines  that  had  evidently  broken  some 
one's  favourite  knife  in  the  opening.  This 
particular  summer  she  had  driven  out  to 
"The  Greys,"  but  finding  that  a  party 
was  going  up  in  canoes  every  day  that 
week,  she  promptly  ordered  her  driver  to 
take  her  back  to  Three  Rivers,  saying  to 
Mr.  Mason  she  would  return  when  she 
could  have  the  falls  to  herself. 

"  You  remind  me  of  Miss  Porter,"  said 
the  lumber  king. 

"Miss  Porter!     Who  is  she  ?" 
"  When   Miss   Porter   visited    England 
and  saw  Mr.  Gladstone,  he  asked  her   if 


22 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


\i 


I". 


I 


li 


il^i  i 


lilt 


she  had  ever  seen  the  Niagara  Falls. 
'Seen  t'em?'  she  answered.  'Why,  I 
ozun  them  !  '  " 

"  What  did  she  mean  by  that  ?  I  con- 
fess I  don't  see  the  point,  or  perhaps  it 
isn't  a  joke." 

"  Oh  yes,  it  is.  You  mustn't  slight  my 
good  stories  in  that  way.  She  meant 
just  what  she  said.  I  believe  the  Porter 
family  own,  or  did  own,  Goat  Island,  and, 
I  suppose,  the  other  bank,  and,  therefore, 
the  American  Fall.  The  joke — 1  do  dis- 
like to  have  to  explain  jokes,  especially 
to  you  cool,  unsympathising  Bostonians 
— is  the  ridiculousness  of  any  mere  human 
person  claiming  to  own  such  a  thing  as 
the  Niagara  Falls.  I  believe,  though, 
that  you  are  quite  equal  to  it — I  do  in- 
deed." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Mason." 

"  I  knew  you  would  be  grateful  when  I 
made  myself  clearly  understood.  Now, 
what  I  was  going  to  propose  is  this  : 
You  should  apply  to  the  Canadian  Gov- 
ernment for  possession  of  the  Shawene- 
gan.  I  think  they  would  let  it  go  at  a 
reasonable  figure.  They  look  on  it  merely 
as  an  annoying  impediment  to  the  navi- 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


23 


L  Falls. 
Why,   I 

I  con- 
rhaps  it 

ight  my 
;  meant 
t  Porter 
nd,  and, 
lerefore, 

do  dis- 
specially 
stonians 
e  human 
thing  as 

though, 
•I  do  in- 


1  when  I 


■A 
% 


gation  of  the  river,  and  an  obstruction 
which  has  caused  them  to  spend  some 
thousands  of  dollarc  in  building  a  slide 
by  the  side  of  it,  so  that  the  logs  may 
come  down  safely." 

"  If  I  owned  it,  the  slide  is  the  first 
thing  I  would  destroy." 

"  What  ?  And  ruin  the  lumber  indus- 
try of  the  Upper  St.  Maurice  ?  Oh,  you 
wouldn't  do  such  a  thing !  If  that  is 
your  idea,  I  give  you  fair  warning  that  I 
will  oppose  your  claims  with  all  the  arts 
of  the  lobbyist.  If  you  want  to  become 
the  private  owner  of  the  falls,  you  should 
tell  the  Government  that  you  have  some 
thoughts  of  encouraging  the  industries  of 
the  province  by  building  a  mill " 

"A  mill?" 

"Yes;  why  not?  Indeed,  I  have  half 
a  notion  to  put  a  saw-mill  there  myself. 
It  always  grieves  me  to  see  so  much 
magnificent  power  going  to  waste." 

"  Oh,  seriously,  Mr.  Mason,  you  would 
never  think  of  committing  such  an  act  of 
sacrilege  ? " 

"  Sacrilege,  indeed  !  I  like  that.  Why, 
the  man  who  makes  one  saw-mill  hum 
where  no  mill  ever  hummed  before  is  a 


fWi 


■i; 


•if 


Pi 


V 


,!i^ 


24 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


benefactor  to  his  species.  Don't  they 
teach  political  economy  at  Boston  ?  I 
thought  you  liked  saw-mills.  You  drew 
a  very  pretty  picture  of  the  one  down 
the  stream." 

"  I  admire  a  ruined  saw-mill,  as  that 
one  was  ;  but  not  one  in  a  state  of  activ- 
ity, or  of  eruption,  as  a  person  might 
say." 

"  Well,  won't  you  go  up  to  the  falls 
to-day,  Miss  Sommerton  ?  I  assure  you 
we  have  a  most  unexceptionable  party. 
Why,  one  of  them  is  a  Government 
official.     Think  of  that  !  " 

"  I  refuse  to  think  of  it  ;  or,  if  I  do 
think  of  it,  I  refuse  to  be  dazzled  by  his 
magnificence.  I  want  to  see  the  Sha- 
wenegan,  not  a  picnic  party  drinking 
beer." 

"  You  wrong  them,  really  you  do.  Miss 
Sommerton,  believe  me.  You  have  got 
your  dates  mixed.  It  is  the  champagne 
party  that  goes  to-day.  The  beer  crowd 
is  not  due  until  to-morrow." 

"  The  principle  is  the  same." 

"The  price  of  the  refreshment  is  not. 
I  speak  as  a  man  of  bitter  experience. 
Let's    see.       If    recollection    holds    her 


ONE  D^Y'S  COURTSHIP. 


25 


n't  they 
ston  ?  I 
ou  drew 
ne  down 

,  as  that 
of  activ- 
on  might 

the  falls 
;sure  you 
Die  party, 
vernment 

r,  if  I  do 

led  by  his 

the   Sha- 

drinking 

1  do,  Miss 

have  got 

hampagne 

)eer  crowd 


-nt  is  not. 
xperience. 
holds    her 


throne,  I  think  there  was  a  young  lady 
from  New  England — I  forget  the  name 
of  the  town  at  the  moment — who  took  a 
lunch  with  her  the  last  time  she  went  to 
the  Shawenegan.  I  merely  give  this  as 
my  impression,  you  know.  I  am  open  to 
contradiction." 

"  Certainly,  I  took  a  lunch.  I  always 
do.  I  would  to-day  if  I  were  going  up 
there,  and  Mrs.  Mason  would  give  me 
some  sandwiches.  You  would  give  me  a 
lunch,  wouldn't  you,  dear  ?  " 

"  I'll  tell  them  to  get  it  ready  now,  if 
you  will  only  stay,"  replied  that  lady,  on 
being  appealed  to. 

'*  No,  it  isn't  the  lunch  I  object  to.  I 
object  to  people  going  there  merely  /or 
the  lunch.  I  go  for  the  scenery  ;  the 
lunch  is  incidental." 

"  When  you  get  the  deed  of  the  falls, 
I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do,"  put  in  Mason. 
"  We  will  have  a  band  of  trained  Indians 
stationed  at  the  landing,  and  they  will 
allow  no  one  to  disembark  who  does  not 
express  himself  in  sufficiently  ecstatic 
terms  about  the  great  cataract.  You 
will  draw  up  a  set  of  adjectives,  which 
I   will    give  to  the   Indians,    instructing 


m 


imC' 


26 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


% 


them  to  allow  no  one  to  land  who  does 
not  use  at  least  three  out  of  five  of  them 
in  referring  to  the  falls.  People  whose 
eloquent  appreciation  does  not  reach  the 
required  altitude  will  have  to  stay  there 
till  it  does,  that's  all.  We  will  treat  them 
as  we  do  our  juries — starve  them  into  a 
verdict,  and  the  right  verdict  at  that." 

"  Don't  mind  him,  Eva.  He  is  just 
trying  to  exasperate  you.  Think  of  what 
I  have  to  put  up  with.  He  goes  on  like 
that  all  the  time,"  said  Mrs.  Mason. 

"  Really,  my  dear,  your  flattery  con- 
fuses me.  You  can't  persuade  any  one 
that  I  keep  up  this  brilliancy  in  the  priv- 
acy of  my  own  house.  It  is  only  turned 
on  for  company." 

"  Why,  Mr.  Mason,  I  didn't  think  you 
looked  on  me  as  company.  I  thought  I 
enjoyed  the  friendship  of  the  Mason 
family." 

"Oh,  you  do,  you  do  indeed!  The 
company  I  referred  to  was  the  official 
party  which  has  just  gone  to  the  falls. 
This  is  some  of  the  brilliancy  left  over. 
But,  really,  you  had  better  stay  after 
coming  all  this  distance." 

"  Yes,  do,  Eva.     Let  me  go  back  with 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


27 


rho  does 
of  them 
le  whose 
reach  the 
tay  there 
eat  them 
em  into  a 
that." 
:e   is  just 
ik  of  what 
;s  on  like 
Lson. 

tery   con- 
e  any  one 
the  priv- 
ily turned 

think  you 

thought  I 

le    Mason 

eed !     The 

the  official 

the  falls. 

T  left  over. 

stay   after 


:'-S 


i 


'^ 


M 


you  to  the  Three  Rivers,  and  then  you 
stay  with  me  till  next  week,  when  you 
can  visit  the  falls  all  alone.  It  is  very 
pleasant  at  Three  Rivers  just  now.  And 
besides,  we  can  go  for  a  day's  shopping 
at  Montreal." 

"  I  wish  I  could." 

*'  Why,  of  course  you  can,"  said  Mason. 
"  Imagine  the  delight  of  smuggling  your 
purchases  back  to  Boston.  Confess  that 
this  is  a  pleasure  you  hadn't  thought  of." 

"  I  admit  the  fascination  of  it  all,  but 
you  see  I  am  with  a  party  that  has  gone 
on  to  Quebec,  and  I  just  got  away  for  a 
day.  I  am  to  meet  them  there  to-night 
or  to-morrov/  morning.  But  I  will  return 
in  the  autumn,  Mrs.  Mason,  when  it  is 
too  late  for  the  picnics.  Then,  Mr. 
Mason,  take  warning.  I  mean  to  have  a 
canoe  to  myself,  or — well,  you  know  the 
way  we  Bostonians  treated  you  Britishers 
once  upon  a  time." 

"  Distinctly.  But  we  will  return  good 
for  evil,  and  give  you  warm  tea  instead  of 
the  cold  mixture  you  so  foolishly  brewed 
in  the  harbour." 

As  the  buckboard  disappeared  around 


,  back  with      I  the   corner,   and    Mr.   and    Mrs     Mason 


28 


ONE  D/iY'S  COURTSHIP. 


Hf 


'  i 


\i 


walked  back  to  the  house,  the  lady 
said — 

**  What  a  strange  girl  Eva  is." 

"Very.  Don't  she  strike  you  as  being 
a  trifle  selfish  ?  " 

"  Selfish  ?  Eva  Sommerton  ?  Why, 
what  could  make  you  think  such  a  thing  ? 
What  an  absurd  idea  !  You  cannot  im- 
agine how  kind  she  was  to  me  when  I 
visited  Boston." 

"  Who  could  help  it,  my  dear?  I  would 
have  been  so  myself  if  I  had  happened  to 
meet  you  there." 

"  Now,  Ed.,  don't  be  absurd." 

"There  is  something  absurd  in  being 
kind  to  a  person's  wife,  isn't  there  ? 
Well,  it  struck  me  her  objection  to  any 
one  else  being  at  the  falls,  when  her 
ladyship  was  there,  might  seem — not  to 
me,  of  course,  but  to  an  outsider — a  trifle 
selfish." 

"  Oh,  you  don't  understand  her  at  all. 
She  has  an  artistic  temperament,  and  she 
is  quite  right  in  wishing  to  be  alone. 
Now,  Ed.,  when  she  does  come  again  I 
want  you  to  keep  anyone  else  from  going 
up  there.  Don't  forget  it,  as  you  do 
most  of   the   things  I  tell  you.     Say  to 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


29 


anybody  who  wants  to  go  up  that  the 
canoes  are  out  of  repair." 

"Oh,  I  can't  say  that,  you  know. 
Anything  this  side  of  a  crime  I  am  will- 
ing to  commit ;  but  to  perjure  myself,  no, 
not  for  Venice.  Can  you  think  of  any 
other  method  that  will  combine  duplicity 
with  a  clear  conscience  ?  I'll  tell  you 
what  I'll  do.  I  will  have  the  canoe 
drawn  up,  and  gently,  but  firmly,  slit  it 
with  my  knife.  One  of  the  men  can  mend 
it  in  ten  minutes.  Then  I  can  look  even 
the  official  from  Quebec  in  the  face,  and 
tell  him  truly  that  the  canoe  will  not 
hold  water.  I  suppose  as  long  as  my 
story  will  hold  water  you  and  Miss  Som- 
merton  will  not  mind?" 

"If  the  canoe  is  ready  for  her  when 
she  comes,  I  shall  be  satisfied.  Please  to 
remember  I  am  going  to  spend  a  week  or 
two  in  Boston  next  winter." 

"  Oh  ho,  that's  it,  is  it  ?  Then  it  was 
not  pure  philanthropy " 

"  Pure  nonsense,  Ed.  I  want  the  canoe 
to  be  ready,  that's  all." 

When  Mrs.  Mason  received  the  letter 
from  Miss  Sommerton,  stating  the  time 
the   young  woman   intended   to  pay  her 


30 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


:f  I 


visit  to  the  Shawenegan,  she  gave  the 
letter  to  her  husband,  and  reminded  him 
of  the  necessity  of  keeping  the  canoe  for 
that  particular  date.  As  the  particular 
date  was  some  weeks  off,  and  as  Ed. 
Mason  was  a  man  who  never  crossed  a 
stream  until  he  came  to  it,  he  said,  "  All 
right,"  put  the  letter  in  his  inside  pocket, 
and  the  next  time  he  thought  of  it  was 
on  the  fine  autumn  afternoon — Monday 
afternoon  —  when  he  saw  Mrs.  Mason 
drive  up  to  the  door  of  his  lumber-woods 
residence  with  Miss  Eva  Sommerton  in 
the  buggy  beside  her.  The  young  lady 
wondered,  as  Mr.  Mason  helped  her  out, 
if  that  genial  gentleman,  whom  she  re- 
garded as  the  most  fortunate  of  men,  had 
in  reality  some  secret,  gnawing  sorrow 
the  world  knew  not  of. 

"  Why,  Ed.,  you  look  ill,"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Mason  ;  "  is  there  anything  the  mat- 
ter ?  " 

"  Oh,  it  is  nothing — at  least,  not  of 
much  consequence.  A  little  business 
worry,  that's  all." 

"  Has  there  been  any  trouble  ?'* 
"Oh  no — at  the  least,  not yet.^' 
"  Trouble  about  the  men,  is  it  ?  " 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


3« 


"  No,  not  about  the  men,"  said  the  un- 
fortunate gentleman,  with  a  somewhat 
unnecessary  emphasis  on   the  last  word, 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Mason,  I  am  afraid  I  have 
come  at  a  wrong  time.  If  so,  don't  hesi- 
tate to  tell  me.  If  I  can  do  anything  to 
elp  you,  I  hope  I  may  be  allowed." 

"  You  have  come  just  at  the  right 
time,"  said  the  lumberm.m,  "  and  you  are 
very  welcome,  I  assure  you.  If  I  find  I 
need  help,  as  perhaps  I  may,  you  will  be 
reminded  of  your  promise." 

To  put  off  as  long  as  possible  the  evil 
time  of  meeting  his  wife.  Mason  went 
with  the  man  to  see  the  horse  put  away, 
and  he  lingered  an  unnecessarily  long 
time  in  ascertaining  that  everything  was 
right  in  the  stable.  The  man  was  aston- 
ished to  find  his  master  so  particular  that 
afternoon.  A  crisis  may  be  postponed, 
but  it  can  rarely  be  avoided  altogether, 
and  knowing  he  had  to  face  the  inevitable 
sooner  or  later,  the  unhappy  man,  with  a 
sigh,  betook  himself  to  the  house,  where 
he  found  his  wife  impatiently  waiting  for 
him.  She  closed  the  door  and  con- 
fronted hir^. 

"  Now,  Ed.,  what's  the  matter  ?  " 


32 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP, 


.(  V: 


■';    I 


■r^ 


^Mil 


"  Where's  Miss  Sommerton  ?  "  was  the 
somewhat  irrelevant  reply. 

"She  has  gone  to  her  room.  Ed., 
don't  keep  me  in  suspense.  What  is 
wrong? " 

"  You  remember  John  Trenton,  who 
was  here  in  the  summer  ?  " 

"  I  remember  hearing  you  speak  of  him. 
I  didn't  meet  him,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  that's  so.  Neither  you  did.  You 
see,  he's  an  awful  good  fellow,  Trenton 
is — that  is,  for  an  Englishman." 

"  Well,  what  has  Trenton  to  do  with 
the  trouble  ? " 

"  Everything,  my  dear — everything." 

"  I  see  how  it  is.  Trenton  visited  the 
Shawenegan  ? " 

"  He  did." 

"And  he  wants  to  go  there  again  ?" 

"  He  does." 

"  And  you  have  gone  and  promised  him 
the  canoe  for  to-morrow?" 

"  The  intuition  of  woman,  my  dear,  is 
the  most  wonderful  thing  on  earth." 

"  It  is  not  half  so  wonderful  as  the 
negligence  of  man — I  won't  say  the  stu- 
pidity." 

"  Thank  you,  Jennie,  for  not  saying  it, 


It  i'  i ! 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


ZZ 


but  I  really  think  I  would  feel  better  if 
you  did." 

"  Now,  what  are  you  going  to  do  about 
it?" 

"  Well,  my  dear,  strange  as  it  may  ap- 
pear, that  very  question  has  been  racking 
my  brain  for  the  last  ten  minutes.  Now, 
what  would  you  do  in  my  position  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  couldn't  be  in  your  position." 

"  No,  that's  so,  Jennie.  Excuse  me 
for  suggesting  the  possibility.  I  really 
think  this  trouble  has  affected  my  mind  a 
little.  But  if  you  had  a  husband — if  a 
sensible  woman  like  you  could  have  a 
husband  who  got  himself  into  such  a 
position — what  would  you  advise  him  to 
do?" 

"  Now,  Ed.,  don't  joke.     It's  too  seri- 


ous 


>> 


"  My  dear,  no  one  on  earth  can  have 
such  a  realisation  of  its  seriousness  as  I 
hrve  at  this  moment.  I  feel  as  Mark 
Twain  did  with  that  novel  he  never 
finished,  I  have  brought  things  to  a  point 
where  I  can't  go  any  further.  The  game 
seems  blocked.  I  wonder  if  Miss  Som- 
merton  would  accept  ten  thousand  feet 
of  lumber  f.  o.  b.  and  call  it  square." 


34 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


"  Really,  Ed.,  if  you  can't  talk  sensibly, 
I  have  nothing  further  to  say." 

"Well,  as  I  said,  the  strain  is  getting 
too  much  for  me.  Now,  don't  go  away, 
Jennie.  Here  is  what  I  am  thinking  of 
doing.  I'll  speak  to  Trenton.  He  won't 
mind  Miss  Somm-erton's  going  in  the 
canoe  with  him.  In  fact,  I  should  think 
he  would  rather  like  it." 

**  Dear  me,  Ed.,  is  that  all  the  progress 
you've  made  ?  I  am  not  troubling  myself 
about  Mr.  Trenton.  The  difficulty  will 
be  with  Eva.  Do  you  think  for  a  mo- 
ment she  will  go  if  she  imagined  herself 
under  obligations  to  a  stranger  for  the 
canoe  ?  Can't  you  get  Mr.  Trenton  to 
put  off  his  visit  until  the  day  after  to- 
morrow ?     It  isn't  long  to  wait." 

"No,  that  is  impossible.  You  see,  he 
has  just  time  to  catch  his  steamer  as  it  is. 
No,  he  has  the  promise  in  writing,  while 
Miss  Sommerton  has  no  legal  evidence  if 
this  thing  ever  gets  into  the  courts. 
Trenton  has  my  written  promise.  You 
see,  I  did  not  remember  the  two  dates 
were  the  same.  When  I  wrote  to  Tren- 
ton  " 

"  Ed.,   don't   try   to   excuse    yourself. 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


35 


ren- 


Y)u  had  her  letter  in  your  pocket,  you 
know  you  had.  This  is  a  matter  for 
which  there  is  no  excuse,  and  it  cannot 
be  explained  away." 

"  That's  so,  Jennie.  I  am  down  in  the 
depths  once  more.  I  shall  not  try  to 
crawl  out  again — at  least,  not  while  my 
wife  is  looking." 

"  No,  your  plan  will  not  work.  I  don't 
know  that  any  will.  There  is  only  one 
thing  to  try,  and  it  is  this — Miss  Som- 
merton  must  think  that  the  canoe  is  hers. 
You  must  appeal  to  her  generosity  to  let 
Mr.  Trenton  go  with  her." 

'*  Won't  you  make  the  appeal,  Jen  ? " 

"  No,  I  will  not.  In  the  first  place 
she'll  be  sorry  for  you,  because  you  will 
make  such  a  bungle  of  it.  That  is  ;our 
only  hope." 

"  Oh,  if  success  lies  in  bungling,  I  will 
succeed." 

"  Don't  be  too  sure.  I  suppose  that 
man  will  be  here  by  daybreak  to-mor- 
row ? " 

"  Not  so  bad  as  that,  Jennie.  You 
always  try  to  put  the  worst  face  on 
things.  He  won't  be  here  till  sunrise  at 
the  earliest." 


36 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


m 


'f  \ 


iil 


"  I  will  ask  Eva  to  come  down." 

"  You  needn't  hurry  just  because  of 
me.  Besides,  I  would  like  a  few  moments 
to  prepare  myself  for  my  fate.  Even  a 
murderer  is  given  a  little  time." 

"  Not  a  moment,  Ed.  We  had  better 
get  this  thing  settled  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,"  he  murmured, 
with  a  deep  sigh.  ''Well,  if  we  British- 
ers, as  Miss  S.  calls  us,  ever  faced  the 
Americans  with  as  faint  a  heart  as  I  do 
now,  I  don't  wonder  we  got  licked." 

"  Don't  say  *  licked,'  Ed." 

"  I  believe  it's  historical.  Oh,  I  see. 
You  object  to  the  word,  not  to  the  allega- 
tion. Well,  I  won't  cavil  about  that. 
All  my  sympathy  just  now  is  concentrated 
on  one  unfortunate  Britisher.  My  dear, 
let  the  sacrifice  begin." 

Mrs.  Mason  went  to  the  stairway  and 
called — 

"  Eva,  dear,  can  you  come  down  for  a 
moment?  We  want  you  to  help  us  out 
of  a  difficulty." 

Miss  Sommerton  appeared  smilingly, 
smoothing  down  the  front  of  the  dress 
that  had  taken  the  place  of  the  one  she 
travelled     in.      She    advanced    towards 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


37 


:SS 

le 


Mason  with  sweet  compasGion  in  her 
eyes,  and  that  ill-fated  man  thought  he 
had  never  seen  any  one  look  so  altogether 
charming — excepting,  of  course,  his  own 
wife  in  her  youthful  days.  She  seemed 
to  have  smoothed  away  all  the  Boston 
stiffness  as  she  smoothed  her  dress. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Mason,"  she  said,  sympatheti- 
cally, as  she  approached,  "  I  am  so  sorry 
anything  has  happened  to  trouble  you^ 
and  I  do  hope  I  am  not  intruding." 

"  Indeed,  you  are  not.  Miss  Eva.  In 
fact,  your  sympathy  has  taken  away  half 
the  trouble  already,  and  I  want  to  beg  of 
you  to  help  me  off  with  the  other  half." 

A  glance  at  his  wife's  face  showed  him 
that  he  had  not  made  a  bad  beginning. 

"  Miss  Sommerton,  you  said  you  would 
like  to  kelp  me.  Now  I  am  going  to 
appeal  to  you.  I  throw  myself  on  your 
mercy." 

There  was  a  slight  frown  on  Mrs. 
Mason's  face,  and  her  husband  felt  that 
he  was  perhaps  appealing  too  much. 

**  In  fact,  the  truth  is,  my  wife  gave 
me 

Here  a  cough  interrupted  him,  and  he 
paused  and  ran  his  hand  through  his  hair. 


I 


? 


38 


ONE  D/IY'S  COURTSHIP. 


u 


ft   '^> 


I 


"  Pray  don't  mind  me,  Mr.  Mason," 
said  Miss  Sommerton,  "  if  you  would 
rather  not  tell " 

"  Oh,  but  I  must ;  that  is,  I  want  you 
to  know." 

He  glanced  at  his  wife,  but  there  was 
no  help  there,  so  he  plunged  in  head- 
long. 

"  To  tell  the  truth,  there  is  a  friend  of 
mine  who  wants  to  go  to  the  falls  to- 
morrow. He  sails  for  Europe  immedi- 
ately, and  has  no  other  day." 

The  Boston  rigidity  perceptibly  re- 
turned. 

"  Oh,  if  that  is  all,  you  needn't  have 
had  a  moment's  trouble.  I  can  just  as 
well  put  off  my  visit." 

"  Oh,  can  you  ? "  cried  Mason,  joy- 
ously. 

His  wife  sat  down  in  the  rocking-chair 
with  a  sigh  of  despair.  Her  infatuated 
husband  thought  he  was  getting  along 
famously. 

"  Then  your  friends  are  not  waiting  for 
you  at  Quebec  this  time,  and  you  can 
stay  a  day  or  two  with  us.*' 

"  Eva's  friends  are  at  Montreal,  Ed- 
ward, and  she  cannot  stay." 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


39 


ig 


"Oh,  then — why,  then,  to-morrow's 
your  only  day,  too  ?  " 

"  It  doesn't  matter  in  the  least,  Mr. 
Mascn.  I  shall  be  most  glad  to  put  off 
my  visit  to  oblige  your  friend — no,  I 
didn't  mean  that,"  she  cried,  seeing 
the  look  of  anguish  on  Mason's  face, 
"  it  is  to  oblige  you.  Now,  am  I  not 
good  ? " 

"  No,  you  are  cruel,"  replied  Mason. 
"  You  are  going  up  to  the  falls.  I  insi.st 
on  that.  Let's  take  that  as  settled.  The 
canoe  is  yours."  He  caught  an  encour- 
aging look  from  his  wife.  *'  If  you  want 
to  torture  me  you  will  say  you  will  not 
go.  If  you  want  to  do  me  the  greatest 
of  favours,  you  will  let  my  friend  go  in  the 
canoe  with  you  to  the  landing." 

"What!  go  alone  with  a  stranger?" 
cried  Miss  Sommerton,  freezingly. 

"  No,  the  Indians  will  be  there,  you 
know." 

"Oh,  I  didn't  expect  to  paddle  the 
canoe  myself." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that.  You  strike 
me  as  a  girl  who  would  paddle  her  ov/n 
canoe  pretty  well." 

"  Now,  Edward,"  said  his  wife. 


m 


40 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


\  U 


"  He  wants  to  take  some  photographs 
of  the  falls,  and " 

"  Photographs  ?  Why,  Ed.,  I  thought 
you  said  he  was  an  artist." 

'*  Isn't  a  photographer  an  artist  ?  " 

"You  know  he  isn't." 

"Well,  my  dear,  you  know  they  put 
on  their  signs,  'artist — photographer, 
pictures  taken  in  cloudy  weather.'  But 
he's  an  amateur  photographer  ;  an  ama- 
teur is  not  so  bad  as  a  professional,  is  he. 
Miss  Sommerton  ? " 

"I  think  he's  worse,  if  there  is  any 
choice.  A  professional  at  least  takes 
good  pictures,  such  as  they  are." 

"  He  is  an  elderly  gentleman,  and  I  am 
sure " 

"Oh,  is  he?"  cried  Miss  Sommerton; 
"then  the  matter  is  settled.  He  shall 
go.  I  thought  it  was  some  young  fop  of 
an  amateur  photographer." 

"  Oh,  quite  elderly.  His  hair  is  grey, 
or  badly  tinged  at  least." 

The  frown  on  Miss  Sommerton's  brow 
cleared  away,  and  she  smiled  in  a  manner 
that  was  cheering  to  the  heart  of  her 
suppliant.  He  thought  it  reminded 
him  of  the    sun    breaking   through     the 


I 


of 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


41 


clouds  over  the  hills  beyond  the  St.  Mau- 
rice. 

"Why,  Mr.  Mason,  how  selfishly  I've 
been  acting,  haven't  I  ?  You  really  must 
forgive  me.  It  is  so  funny,  too,  making 
you  beg  for  a  seat  in  your  own  canoe." 

"  Oh  no,  it's  your  canoe — that  is,  after 
twelve  o'clock  to-night.  That's  when 
your  contract  begins." 

"  The  arrangement  does  not  seem  to 
me  quite  regular  ;  but,  then,  this  is  the 
Canadian  woods,  and  not  Boston.  But,  I 
want  to  make  my  little  proviso.  I  do 
not  wish  to  be  introduced  to  this  man  ; 
he  must  have  no  excuse  for  beginning  a 
conversation  with  me.  I  don't  want  to 
talk  to-morrow." 

"  Heroic  resolution,"  murmured  Mason. 

"  So,  I  do  not  wish  to  see  the  gentle- 
man until  I  go  into  the  canoe.  You  can 
be  conveniently  absent.  Mrs.  Perrault 
will  take  me  down  there  ;  she  speaks  no 
English,  and  it  is  not  likely  he  can  speak 
French." 

"  We  can  arrange  that." 

"  Then  it  is  settled,  and  all  I  hope  for 
is  a  good  day  to-morrow," 

Mrs.  Mason  sprang  up  and  kissed  the 


|i-:w 


,:ll 


42 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


fair  Bostonian,  and  Mason  felt  a  sensation 
of  joyous  freedom  that  recalled  his  youth- 
ful days  when  a  half-holiday  was  an- 
nounced. 

"  Oh,  it  is  too  good  of  you,"  paid  the 
elder  lady. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  whispered  Miss  Som- 
merton  ;  "  I  hate  the  man  before  I  have 
seen  him." 


CHAPTER  III. 

When  John  Trenton  came  in  to  break- 
fast, he  found  his  friend  Mason  waiting 
for  him.  That  genial  gentleman  was 
evidently  ill  at  ease,  but  he  said  in  an  off- 
hand way — 

"  The  ladies  have  already  breakfasted. 
They  are  busily  engaged  in  the  prepara- 
tions for  the  trip,  and  so  you  and  I  can 
have  a  snack  together,  and  then  we  will 
go  and  see  to  the  canoe." 

After  breakfast  they  went  together  to 
the  river,  and  found  the  canoe  and  the 
two  half-breeds  waiting  for  them.  A 
couple  of  rugs  were  spread  on  the  bottom 
of  the  canoe  rising  over  the  two  slanting 
boards  which  served  as  backs  to  the 
lowly  seats. 

"  Now,"  said  Mason  with  a  blush,  for 
he  always  told  a  necessary  lie  with  some 
compunction,  "  I  shall  have  to  go  and  see 
to  one  of  my  men  who  was  injured  in  the 


44 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


In 


liV 


mill  this  morning.  You  had  better  take 
your  place  in  the  canoe,  and  wait  for 
your  passenger,  who,  as  is  usual  with 
ladies,  will  probably  be  a  little  late.  I 
think  you  should  sit  in  the  back  seat,  as 
you  are  the  heavier  of  the  two.  I  pre- 
sume you  remember  what  I  told  you 
about  sitting  in  a  canoe?  Get  in  with 
caution  while  these  two  men  hold  the 
side  of  it ;  sit  down  carefully,  and  keep 
steady,  no  matter  what  happens.  Per- 
haps you  may  as  well  put  your  camera 
here  at  the  back,  or  in  the  prow." 

"  No,"  said  Trenton,  "  I  shall  keep  it 
slung  over  my  shoulder.  It  isn't  heavy, 
and  I  am  always  afraid  of  forgetting  it  if 
I  leave  it  anywhere." 

Trenton  got  cautiously  into  the  canoe, 
while  Mason  bustled  off  with  a  very 
guilty  feeling  at  his  heart.  He  never 
thought  of  blaming  Miss  Sommerton  for 
the  course  she  had  taken,  and  the  di- 
lemma into  which  she  placed  him,  for  he 
felt  that  the  fault  was  entirely  his  own. 

John  Trenton  pulled  out  his  pipe,  and, 
absent-mindedly,  stuffed  it  full  of  to- 
bacco. Just  as  he  was  about  to  light 
it,   he   remembered   there  was   to   be   a 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


45 


lady  in  the  party,  and  so  with  a  grimace 
of  disappointment  he  put  the  loaded  pipe 
into  his  pocket  again. 

It  was  the  most  lovely  time  of  the  year. 
The  sun  was  still  warm,  but  the  dreaded 
black  fly  and  other  insect  pests  of  the 
region  had  disappeared  before  the  sharp 
frosts  that  occurred  every  night.  The 
hilly  banks  of  the  St.  Maurice  were 
covered  with  unbroken  forest,  and  *'  the 
woods  of  autumn  all  around  the  vale  had 
put  their  glory  on."  Presently  Trenton 
saw  Miss  Sommerton,  accompanied  by 
old  Mrs.  Perrault,  coming  over  the  brow 
of  the  hill.  He  attempted  to  rise,  in  or- 
der to  assist  the  lady  to  a  seat  in  the  ca- 
noe, when  the  half-breed  said  in  French — 

"  Better  sit  still.  It  is  safer.  We  will 
help  the  lady." 

Miss  Sommerton  was  talking  rapidly  in 
French — with  rather  overdone  eagerness 
— to  Mrs.  Perrault.  She  took  no  notice 
of  her  fellow-voyager  as  she  lightly 
stepped  exactly  in  the  centre  of  the 
canoe,  and  sank  down  on  the  rug  in  front 
of  him,  with  the  eatc  of  one  thoroughly 
accustomed  to  that  somewhat  treacherous 
craft. 


46 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


\\\    \ 


III    t 


'  is  ' 

I  wi ! 
m.  i 

)■   ! 


The  two  stalwart  boatmen — one  at  the 
])row,  the  other  at  the  stern  of  the  canoe 
— with  swift  and  dexterous  strokes,  shot 
it  out  into  the  stream.  Trenton  could 
not  but  admire  the  knowledge  of  these 
two  men  and  their  dexterous  use  of  it. 
Here  they  were  on  a  swiftly  flowing  river, 
with  a  small  fall  behind  them  and  a 
tremendous  cataract  several  miles  in 
front,  yet  these  two  men,  by  their  knowl- 
edge of  the  currents,  managed  to  work 
their  way  up  stream  with  the  least  possi- 
ble amount  of  physical  exertion.  The 
St.  Maurice  at  this  point  is  about  half  a 
mile  wide,  with  an  island  here  and  there, 
and  now  and  then  a  touch  of  rapids. 
Sometimes  the  men  would  dash  right 
across  the  river  to  the  opposite  bank,  and 
there  fall  in  with  a  miniature  Gulf  Stream 
that  would  carry  them  onward  without 
exertion.  Sometimes  they  were  near  the 
densely  wooded  shore,  sometimes  in  the 
center  of  the  river.  The  half-breed  who 
stood  behind  Trenton,  leant  over  to  him, 
and  whispered — 

"  You  can  now  smoke  if  you  like,  the 
wind  is  down  stream." 

Naturally,    Mr.     Trenton     wished     to 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


47 


to 


smoke.  The  requesting  of  permission  to 
do  so,  it  struck  him,  might  open  the  way 
to  conversation.  He  was  not  an  ardent 
conversationalist,  but  it  seemed  to  him 
rather  ridiculous  that  two  persons  should 
thus  travel  together  in  a  canoe  without 
saying  a  word  to  each  other. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  madam,"  he  be- 
gan ;  "  but  would  you  have  any  objection 
to  my  smoking?  1  am  ashamed  to  con- 
fess that  I  am  a  slave  to  the  pernicious 
habit." 

There  was  a  moment  or  two  of  silence, 
broken  only  by  the  regular  dip  of  the 
paddle,  then  Miss  Sommerton  said,  "  If 
you  wish  to  desecrate  this  lovely  spot  by 
smoking,  I  presume  anything  I  can  say 
will  not  prevent  you." 

Trenton  was  amazed  at  the  rudeness  of 
this  reply,  and  his  face  flushed  with  an- 
ger. Finally  he  said,  "  You  must  have  a 
very  poor  opinion  of  me  !  " 

Miss  Sommerton  answered  tartly,  "  I 
have  no  opinion  whatever  of  you." 
Then,  with  womanly  inconsistency,  she 
proceeded  to  deliver  her  opinion,  saying, 
**  A  man  who  would  smoke  here  would 
smoke  in  a  cathedral." 


48 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


1 1 


I. 
It '  ^ 


it 


"  I  think  you  are  wrong  there,"  said 
Mr.  Trenton,  calmly.  "  I  would  smoke 
here,  but  I  would  not  think  of  smoking  in 
a  cathedral.  Neither  would  I  smoke  in 
the  humblest  log-cabin  chapel." 

"Sir,"  said  Miss  Sommerton,  turning 
partly  round,  "  I  came  to  the  St.  Maurice 
for  the  purpose  of  viewing  its  scenery.  I 
hoped  to  see  it  alone.  I  have  been  disap- 
pointed in  that,  but  I  must  insist  on  see- 
ing it  in  si'  -nee.  I  do  not  wish  to  carry 
on  a  conversation,  nor  do  I  wish  to  enter 
into  a  discussion  on  any  subject  what- 
ever. I  am  sorry  to  have  to  say  this,  but 
it  seems  to  be  necessary." 

Her  remarks  so  astonished  Trenton 
that  he  found  it  impossible  to  get  angrier 
than  he  had  been  when  she  first  spoke. 
In  fact,  he  found  his  anger  receding 
rather  than  augmenting.  It  was  some- 
thing so  entirely  new  to  meet  a  lady  v^ho 
had  such  an  utter  disregard  for  the  rules 
of  politeness  that  obtain  in  any  civilized 
society  that  Mr.  Trenton  felt  he  was 
having  a  unique  and  valuable  experience. 

"  Will  you  pardon  me,"  he  said,  with 
apparent  submissiveness — "  will  you  par- 
don me  if  I  disregard  your  request  suffi- 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


49 


in 


ciently    to    humbly   beg  forgiveness   for 
having  spoken  to  you  in  the  first  place  ?  " 

To  this  Miss  Sommerton   made  no  re- 
ply, and  the  canoe  glided  along. 

After  going  up  the  river  for  a  few  miles 
the  boatmen  came  to  a  difficult  part  of 
the  voyage.  Here  the  river  was  divided 
by  an  island.  The  dark  waters  moved 
with  great  swiftness,  and  with  the  smooth- 
ness of  oil,  over  the  concealed  rocks, 
breaking  into  foam  at  the  foot  of  the 
rapids.  Now  for  the  first  time  the  In- 
dians had  hard  work.  For  quite  half  an 
hour  they  paddled  as  if  in  despair,  and 
the  canoe  moved  upward  inch  by  inch. 
It  was  not  only  hard  work,  but  it  was 
work  that  did  not  allow  of  a  moment's 
rest  until  it  was  finished.  Should  the 
paddles  pause  but  an  instant,  the  canoe 
would  be  swept  to  the  bott'  m  of  the 
rapids.  When  at  last  the  craft  floated 
into  the  still  water  above  the  rapids,  the 
boatmen  rested  and  mopped  the  perspir- 
ation from,  their  brows.  Then,  without  a 
word,  they  resumed  their  steady,  easy 
swing  of  the  paddle.  In  a  short  time 
the  canoe  drew  up  at  a  landing,  from 
which    a   path    ascended   the   steep   hill 


50 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


among  the  trees.  The  silence  was 
broken  only  by  the  deep,  distant,  low  roar 
of  the  Shawenegen  Falls.  Mr.  Trenton 
sat  in  his  place,  while  the  half-breeds  held 
the  canoe  steady.  Miss  Sommerton  rose 
and  stepped  with  firm,  self-reliant  tread 
on  the  landing.  Without  looking  back- 
ward she  proceeded  up  the  steep  hill,  and 
disappeared  among  the  dense  foliage. 
Then  Trenton  leisurely  got  out  of  the 
canoe. 

"  You  had  a  hard  time  of  it  up  that 
rapid,"  said  the  artist  in  French  to  the 
boatmen.  "  Here  is  a  five-dollar  bill  to 
divide  when  you  get  down  ;  and,  if  you 
bring  us  safely  back,  I  shall  have  another 
ready  for  you." 

The  men  were  profusely  grateful,  as 
indeed  they  had  a  right  to  be,  for  the 
most  they  expected  w^as  a  dollar  each  as 
a  fee. 

"Ah,"  said  the  elder,  "if  we  had  gen- 
tlemen like  you  to  take  up  every  day," 
and  he  gave  an  expressive  shrug. 

"You  shouldn't  take  such  a  sordid 
view  of  the  matter,"  said  the  artist.  "  I 
should  think  you  would  find  great  pleas- 
ure  in   taking   up   parties   of   handsome 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


SI 


ladies  such  as  I  understand  now  and  then 
visit  the  falls." 

"  Ah,"  said  the  boatman,  "  it  is  very- 
nice,  of  course  ;  but,  except  from  Miss 
Sommerton,  we  don't  get  much." 

"Really,"  said  the  artist;  "and  who 
is  Miss  Sommerton,  pray  ?" 

The  half-breed  nodded  up  the  path. 

"  Oh,  indeed,  that  is  her  name.  I  did 
not  know." 

"Yes,"  saic'  ihe  man,  "  she  is  very  gen- 
erous, and  she  always  brings  us  tobacco 
in  her  pocket — good  tobacco." 

"Tobacco!"  cried  the  artist.  "The 
arrant  hypocrite.  She  gives  you  tobacco, 
does  she  ?  Did  you  understand  what  we 
were  talking  about  coming  up  here  ?" 

The  younger  half-breed  was  about  to 
say  "  Yes,"  and  a  gleam  of  intelligence 
came  into  his  face  ;  but  a  frown  on  the 
other's  brow  checked  him,  and  the  elaer 
gravely  shook  his  head. 

"We  do  not  understand  English,"  he 
said. 

As  Trenton  walked  slowly  up  the  steep 
hillside,  he  said  to  himself,  "That  young 
woman  does  not  seem  to  have  the  slightest 
spark   of   gratitude   in   her   composition. 


1  .'      ' 

r     : 


' 


V 


1^' 


;  I 


M 


52 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


Here  I  have  been  good-natured  enough 
to  share  my  canoe  with  her,  yet  she 
treats  me  as  if  I  were  some  low  ruffian 
instead  of  a  gentleman." 

As  Miss  Sommerton  was  approaching 
the  Shawenegan  Falls,  she  said  to  her- 
self, "  What  an  insufferable  cad  that  man 
is  ?  Mr.  Mason  doubtless  told  him  that 
he  was  indebted  to  me  for  being  allowed 
to  come  in  the  canoe,  and  yet,  although 
he  must  see  I  do  not  wish  to  talk  with 
him,  he  tried  to  force  conversation  on 
me." 

Miss  Sommerton  walked  rapidly  along 
the  very  imperfect  woodland  path,  which 
was  completely  shaded  by  the  overhang- 
ing trees.  After  a  walk  of  nearly  a  mile, 
the  path  suddenly  ended  at  the  top  of  a 
tremendous  precipice  of  granite,  and  op- 
posite this  point  the  great  hillside  of 
tumbling  white  foam  plunged  for  ever 
downward.  At  the  foot  of  the  falls  the 
waters  flung  themselves  against  the  mas- 
sive granite  barrier,  and  then,  turning  at 
a  right  angle,  plunged  downward  in  a 
series  of  wild  rapids  that  completely 
eclipsed  in  picturesqueness  and  grandeur 
and   force   even   the    famous    rapids    at 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


53 


Niagara,  Contemplating  this  incompar- 
able scene,  Miss  Sommerton  forgot  all 
about  her  objectionable  travelling  <  >m- 
panion.  She  sat  down  on  a  fallen  log, 
placing  her  sketch-book  on  her  lap,  but 
it  lay  there  idly  as,  unconscious  of  the 
passing  time,  she  gazed  dreamily  at  the 
great  falls  and  listened  to  their  vibrating 
deafening  roar.  Suddenly  the  conscious- 
ness of  some  one  near  startled  her  from 
her  reverie.  She  sprang  to  her  feet,  and 
had  so  completely  forgotten  her  com- 
panion that  she  stared  at  him  for  a  mo- 
ment in  dumb  amazement.  He  stood 
back  some  distance  from  her,  and  beside 
him  on  its  slender  tripod  was  placed  a 
natty  little  camera.  Connected  with  the 
instantaneous  shutter  was  a  long  black 
rubber  tube  almost  as  thin  as  a  string. 
The  bulb  of  this  instantaneous  attach- 
ment Mr.  Trenton  held  in  his  hand,  and 
the  instant  Miss  Sommerton  turned 
around,  the  little  shutter,  as  if  in  defiance 
of  her,  gave  a  snap,  and  she  knew  her 
picture  had  been  taken,  and  also  that  she 
was  the  principal  object  in  the  fore- 
ground. 

"■  You   have    photographed   me,  sir  !  ** 


54 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


\m 


% 


cried  the  young  woman,  with  hor  eyes 
blazing. 

"  I  have  photographed  the  falls,  or,  at 
least,  I  hope  I  have,"  replied  Trenton. 

"  But  my  picture  is  in  the  foreground. 
You  must  destroy  that  plate." 

"  You  will  excuse  me,  Miss  Sommer- 
ton,  if  I  tell  you  I  shall  do  nothing  of 
the  kind.  It  is  very  unusual  with  me  to 
deny  the  request  of  a  lady,  but  in  this 
case  I  must  do  so.  This  is  the  last  plate 
I  have,  and  it  may  be  the  one  successful 
picture  of  the  lot.  I  shall,  therefore,  not 
destroy  the  plate." 

"  Then,  sir,  you  are  not  a  gentleman  !  " 
cried  the  impetuous  young  lady,  her  face 
aflame  with  anger. 

"  I  never  claimed  to  be  one,"  answered 
Trenton,  calmly. 

"  I  shall  appeal  to  Mr.  Mason  ;  perhaps 
he  has  some  means  of  making  you  un- 
derstand that  you  are  not  allowed  to  take 
a  lady's  photograph  without  her  per- 
mission, and  in  defiance  of  her  wishes." 

"  Will  you  allow  me  to  explain  why  it 
is  unnecessary  to  destroy  the  plate  ?  If 
you  understand  anything  about  photogra- 
phy, you  must  be  aware  of  the  fact " 


\ 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


55 


it 
llf 
la- 


"  I  am  happy  to  say  I  know  nothing  of 
photography,  and  I  desire  to  know  noth- 
ing of  it.  I  will  not  hear  any  explana- 
tion from  you,  sir.  You  have  refused 
to  destroy  the  plate.  That  is  enough 
for  me.  Your  conduct  to-day  has  been 
entirely  contemptible.  In  the  first  place 
you  have  forced  yourself,  through  Mr. 
Mason,  into  my  company.  The  canoe 
was  mine  for  to-day,  and  you  knew  it. 
I  granted  you  permission  to  come,  but  I 
made  it  a  proviso  that  there  should  be  no 
conversation.  Now,  I  shall  return  in  the 
canoe  alone,  and  I  shall  pay  the  boatmen 
to  come  back  for  you  this  evening." 
With  this  she  swept  indignantly  past  Mr. 
Trenton,  leaving  the  unfortunate  man 
for  the  second  or  third  time  that  day 
too  much  dumbfounded  to  reply.  She 
marched  down  the  path  toward  the  land- 
ing. Arriving  at  the  canoe,  she  told  the 
boatmen  they  would  have  to  return  for 
Mr.  Trenton  ;  that  she  was  going  back 
alone,  and  she  would  pay  them  hand- 
somely for  their  extra  trip.  Even  the 
additional  pay  offered  did  not  seem  to 
quite  satisfy  the  two  half-breeds. 

"It  will    be    nearly    dark    before    we 


\\ 


\M 


» 


t 


56 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


can  get  back,"  grumbled  the  elder  boat- 
man. 

"  That  does  not  matter,"  replied  Miss 
Sommerton,  shortly. 

"But  it  is  dangerous  going  down  the 
river  at  night." 

"  That  does  not  matter,"  was  again 
the  reply. 

"  But  he  has  nothing " 

**  The  longer  you  stand  talking  here 
the  longer  it  will  be  before  you  get  back. 
If  you  are  afraid  for  the  safety  of  the 
gentleman,  pray  stay  here  with  him  and 
give  me  the  paddle — I  will  take  the  boat 
down  alone." 

The  boatman  said  nothing  more,  but 
shot  the  canoe  out  from  the  landing  and 
proceeded  rapidly  down  the  stream. 

Miss  Sommerton  meditated  bitterly  on 
the  disappointments  and  annoyances  of 
the  day.  Once  fairly  away,  conscience 
began  to  trouble  her,  and  she  remem- 
bered that  the  gentleman  so  unceremo- 
niously left  in  the  woods  without  any 
possibility  of  getting  away  was  a  man 
whom  Mr.  Mason,  her  friend,  evidently 
desired  very  much  to  please.  Little  had 
been  said  by  the  boatmen,  merely  a  brief 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


S7 


word  of  command  now  and  then  from  the 
elder  who  stood  in  the  stern,  until  they 
passed  down  the  rapids.  Then  Miss 
Sommerton  caught  a  grumbling  word  in 
French  which  made  her  heart  stand  still. 

"  What  is  that  you  said  ?  "  she  cried  to 
the  elder  boatman. 

He  did  not  answer,  but  solemnly 
paddled  onward. 

"Answer  me,"  demanded  Miss  Som- 
merton. "What  is  that  you  said  about 
the  gentleman  who  went  up  with  us  this 
morning?  " 

"  I  said,"  replied  the  half-breed,  with  a 
grim  severity  that  even  the  remembrance 
of  gifts  of  tobacco  could  not  mitigate, 
"that  the  canoe  belonged  to  him  to- 
day." 

"  How  dare  you  say  such  a  thing ! 
The  canoe  was  mine.  Mr.  Mason  gave  it 
to  me.     It  was  mine  for  to-day." 

"I  know  nothing  about  that,"  returned 
the  boatman  doggedly  ;  "  but  I  do  know 
that  three  days  ago  Mr.  Mason  came  to 
me  with  this  gentleman's  letter  in  his 
hand  and  said,  *  Pierre,  Mr.  Trenton  is  to 
have  the  canoe  for  Tuesday.  See  it  is  in 
good  order,  and  nO  one  else  is  to  have  it 


M 


S8 


ONE  D/1YS  COURTSHIP. 


I  1 


for  that  day.'  That  is  what  Mr.  Mason 
said,  and  when  they  were  down  at  the 
canoe  this  morning,  Mr.  Mason  asked 
Mr.  Trenton  if  he  would  let  you  go  up 
to  the  falls  in  his  canoe,  and  he  said 
*Yes.'" 

Miss  Sommerton  sat  there  too  horrified 
to  speak.  A  wild  resentment  against  the 
duplicity  of  Ed.  Mason  arose  for  a  mo- 
ment in  her  heart,  but  it  speedily  sank  as 
she  viewed  her  own  conduct  in  the  light 
of  this  astounding  revelation.  She  had 
abused  an  unknown  gentleman  like  a 
pickpocket,  and  had  finally  gone  off  with 
his  canoe,  leaving  him  marooned,  as  it 
were,  to  whose  courtesy  she  was  indebted 
for  being  there  at  all.  Overcome  by  the 
thoughts  that  crowded  so  quickly  upon 
her,  she  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and 
wept.  But  this  was  only  for  an  instant. 
Raising  her  head  again,  with  the  imperi- 
ous air  characteristic  of  her,  she  said  to 
the  boatman — 

"  Turn  back  at  once,  please." 

*'  We  are  almost  there  now,"  he  an- 
swered, amazed  at  the  feminine  incon- 
sistency of  the  command. 

"Turn  back  at  once,  I  say.     You  are 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


59 


not  too  tired  to  paddle  up  the  river  again, 
are  you  ? " 

"  No,  madame,"  he  answered,  "  but  it 
is  so  useless  ;  we  are  almost  there.  We 
shall  land  you,  and  then  the  canoe  will  go 
up  lighter." 

"  I  wish  to  go  with  you.  Do  what  I 
tell  you,  and  I  will  pay  you." 

The  stolid  boatman  gave  the  com- 
mand ;  the  man  at  the  bow  paddled  one 
way,  while  the  man  at  the  stern  paddled 
another,  and  the  canoe  swung  round  up- 
stream again. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


W 


m 


The  sun  had  gone  down  when  Miss 
Sommerton  put  her  foot  once  more  on 
the  landing. 

"We  will  go  and  search  for  him, "  said 
the  boatman. 

'*  Stay  where  you  are,"  she  commanded, 
and  disappeared  swiftly  up  the  path. 
Expecting  to  find  him  still  at  the  falls, 
she  faced  the  prospect  of  a  good  mile  of 
rough  walking  in  the  gathering  darkness 
without  flinching.  But  at  the  brow  of 
the  hill,  within  hearing  distance  of  the 
landing,  she  found  the  man  of  whom  she 
was  in  search.  In  her  agony  of  mind 
Miss  Sommerton  had  expected  co  come 
upon  him  pacing  moodily  up  and  down 
before  the  falls,  meditating  on  the  in- 
gratitude of  womankind.  She  discovered 
him  in  a  much  less  romantic  attitude. 
He  was  lying  at  full  length  below  a  white 
birch-tree,  with  his  camera-box  under  his 
head  for  a  pillow.     It  was  evident  he  had 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


6r 


seen  enough  of  the  Shawenegan  Falls  for 
one  day,  and  doubtless,  because  of  the 
morning's  early  rising,  and  the  day's  long 
journey,  had  fallen  soundly  asleep.  His 
soft  felt  hat  lay  on  the  ground  beside 
him.  Miss  Sommerton  looked  at  him  for 
a  moment,  ?i,nd  thought  bitterly  of  Ma- 
son's additional  perjury  in  swearing  that 
he  was  an  elderly  man.  True,  his  hair 
was  tinged  with  grey  at  the  temples,  but 
there  was  nothing  elderly  about  his  ap- 
pearance. Miss  Sommerton  saw  that  he 
was  a  handsome  man,  and  wondered  this 
had  escaped  her  notice  before,  forgetting 
that  she  had  scarcely  deigned  to  look  at 
him.  She  thought  he  had  spoken  to  her 
with  inexcusable  bluntness  at  the  falls,  in 
refusing  to  destroy  his  plate  ;  but  she  now 
remembered  with  compunction  that  he 
had  made  no  allusion  to  his  ownership  of 
the  boat  for  that  day,  while  she  had 
boasted  that  it  was  hers.  She  determined 
to  return  and  send  one  of  the  boatmen  up 
to  awaken  him,  but  at  that  moment  Tren- 
ton suddenly  opened  his  eyes,  as  a  person 
often  does  when  some  one  looks  at  him 
in  his  sleep.  He  sprang  quickly  to  his 
feet,  and  put  up  his  hand  in  bewilderment 


62 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


I  ■?< 


fi 


to  remove  his  hat,  but  found  it  wasn't 
there.  Then  he  laughed  uncomfortably, 
stooping  to  pick  it  up  again, 

"  I — I — I  wasn't  expecting  visitors," 
he  stammered 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me,"  she  said, 
"  that  Mr.  Mason  had  promised  you  the 
boat  for  the  day  ?  " 

"  Good  gracious  ! "  cried  Trenton, 
"  has  Ed.  Mason  told  you  th^t  ? " 

**  I  have  not  seen  Mr.  Mason,"  she  re- 
plied ;  "  I  found  it  out  by  catching  an  ac- 
cidental remark  made  by  one  of  the  boat- 
men. I  desire  very  humbly  to  apologise 
to  you  for  my  conduct." 

"  Oh,  that  doesn't  matter  at  all,  I  as- 
sure you." 

"  What  !     My  conduct  doesn't  ?  " 

"  No,  I  didn't  mean  quite  that  ;  but   I 

Of  course,  you  did  treat  me  rather 

abruptly  ;  but  then,  you  know,  I  saw  how 
it  was.  You  looked  on  me  as  an  interlo- 
per, as  it  were,  and  I  think  you  were  quite 
justified,  you  know,  in  speaking  as  you 
did.  I  am  a  very  poor  hand  at  convers- 
ing with  ladies,  even  at  my  best,  and  I  am 
not  at  my  best  to-day.  I  had  to  get  up 
too  early,  so  there  is   no   doubt   what   I 


ONE  D/IY'S  COURTSHIP. 


63 


said  was  said  very  awkwardly  indeed. 
But  it  really  doesn't  matter,  you  know — 
that  is,  it  doesn't  matter  about  anything 
you  said." 

"  I  think  it  matters  very  much — at 
least,  it  matters  very  much  to  me.  I 
shall  always  regret  having  treated  you  as 
I  did,  and  I  hope  you  will  forgive  me  for 
having  done  so." 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,"  said  Mr.  Trenton, 
swinging  his  camera  over  his  shoulder. 
**It  is  getting  dark.  Miss  Sommerton  ;  I 
think  we  should  hurry  down  to  the 
canoe." 

As  they  walked  down  the  hill  together, 
he  continued — 

"  I  wish  you  would  let  me  give  you  a 
little  lesson  in  photography,  if  you  don't 
mind." 

"  I  have  very  little  interest  in  photogra- 
phy, especially  amateur  photography^" 
replied  Miss  Sommerton,  with  a  partial 
return  of  her  old  reserve. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  wish  to  make  an  amateur 
photographer  of  you.  You  sketch  very 
nicely,  and " 

"  How  do  you  know  that  ? "  asked  Miss 
Sommerton,     turning     quickly    towards 


I 


64 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


m 


i 


i      I 
lili  ^ 


him  :  "  you  have  never  seen  any  of  my 
sketches." 

"  Ah,  well,"  stammered  Trenton,  "  no 
— that  is — you  know — are  not  those 
water-colours  in  Mason's  house  yours?" 

"  Mr.  Mason  has  some  of  my  sketches. 
I  didn't  know  you  had  seen  them." 

"  Well,  as  I  was  saying,"  continued 
Trenton,  "  I  have  no  desire  to  convert 
you  to  the  beauties  of  amateur  photogra- 
phy. I  admit  the  results  in  many  cases 
are  very  bad.  I  am  afraid  if  you  saw  the 
pictures  I  take  myself  you  would  not  be 
much  in  love  with  the  art.  But  what  I 
wish  to  say  is  in  mitigation  of  my  refusal  to 
destroy  the  plate  when  you  asked  me  to.*' 

*'  Oh,  I  beg  you  will  not  mention  that, 
or  refer  to  anything  at  all  I  have  said  to 
you.  I  assure  you  it  pains  me  very 
much,  and  you  know  I  have  apologised 
once  or  twice  already." 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  that.  The  apology  should 
come  from  me  ;  but  I  thought  I  would 
like  to  explain  why  it  is  that  I  did  not 
take  your  picture,  as  you  thought  I  did." 

"  Not  take  my  picture  ?  Why  I  saiv 
you  take  it.  You  admitted  yourself  you 
took  it." 


ONE  D/IY'S  COURTSHIP. 


6S 


'*WelI,  you  see,  that  is  what  I  want  to 
explain.  I  took  your  picture,  and  then 
again  I  didn't  take  it.  This  is  how  it  is 
with  amateur  photography.  Your  pic- 
ture on  the  plate  will  be  a  mere  shadow, 
a  dim  outline,  nothing  more.  No  one 
can  tell  who  it  is.  You  see,  it  is  utterly 
impossible  to  take  a  dark  object  and  one 
in  pure  white  at  the  instantaneous  snap. 
If  the  picture  of  the  falls  is  at  all  correct, 
as  I  expect  it  will  be,  then  your  picture 
will  be  nothing  but  a  shadow  unrecognis- 
able by  any  one." 

"  But  they  do  take  pictures  with  the 
cataract  as  a  background,  do  they  not  ? 
I  am  sure  I  have  seen  photos  of  groups 
taken  at  Niagara  Falls  ;  in  fact,  I  have 
seen  groups  being  posed  in  public  for 
that  purpose,  and  very  silly  they  looked, 
I  must  say.  I  presume  that  is  one  of  the 
things  that  has  prejudiced  me  so  much 
against  the  camera." 

*'  Those  pictures,  Miss  Sommerton,  are 
not  genuine  ;  they  are  not  at  all  what 
they  pretend  to  be.  The  prints  that  you 
have  seen  are  the  results  of  the  manipu- 
lation of  two  separate  plates,  one  of  the 
plates  containing  the  group  or  the  person 


SSSSSSBB 


W^A 


III  I ! 


HI  I  I 


66 


Or^E  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


\m\\\ 


photographed,  and  the  other  an  instan- 
taneous picture  of  the  falls.  If  you  look 
closely  at  one  of  those  pictures  you  will 
see  a  little  halo  of  light  or  dark  around 
the  person  photographed.  That,  to  an 
experienced  photographer,  shows  the 
double  printing.  In  fact,  it  is  double 
dealing  all  round.  The  de'uded  victim 
of  the  camera  imagines  that  the  pictures 
he  gets  of  the  falls,  with  himself  in  the 
foreground,  is  really  a  picture  of  the  falls 
taken  at  the  time  he  is  being  photo- 
graphed. Whereas,  in  the  picture  actu- 
ally taken  of  him,  the  falls  themselves 
are  hopelessly  over-exposed,  and  do  not 
appear  at  all  on  the  plate.  So  with  the 
instantaneous  picture  I  took  ;  there  will 
really  be  nothing  of  you  on  that  plate 
that  you  would  recognise  as  yourself. 
That  was  why  I  refused  to  destroy  it." 

"  I  an:  afraid,"  said  Miss  Sommerton, 
sadly,  *'•  you  are  trying  to  make  my  pun- 
ishmenn  harder  and  harder.  I  believe  in 
realitv  you  are  very  cruel.  You  know 
how  badly  I  feel  about  the  whole  matter, 
and  now  even  the  one  little  point  that  ap- 
parently gave  me  any  excuse  is  taken 
away  by  your  scientific  explanation.'' 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


67 


11 
te 
f. 


ir. 


"  Candidly,  Miss  Sommerton,  I  am 
more  of  a  culprit  than  you  imagine,  and 
I  suppose  it  is  the  tortures  of  a  guilty 
conscience  that  caused  me  to  make  this 
explanation.  I  shall  now  confess  without 
reserve.  As  you  sat  there  with  your 
head  in  your  hand  looking  at  the  falls,  I 
deliberately  and  with  malice  aforethought 
took  a  timed  picture,  which,  if  developed, 
will  reveal  you  exactly  as  you  sat,  and 
which  will  not  show  the  falls  at  all." 

Miss  Sommerton  walked  in  silence 
beside  him,  and  he  could  not  tell  just 
how  angry  she  might  be.  Finally  he  said, 
"  I  shall  destroy  that  plate,  if  you  order 
me  to." 

Miss  Sommerton  made  no  reply,  until 
they  were  nearly  at  the  canoe.  Then  she 
looked  up  at  him  with  a  smile,  and  said, 
"  I  think  it  a  pity  to  destroy  any  pictures 
you  have  had  such  trouble  to  obtain." 

"Thank  you,  Miss  Sommerton,"  said 
the  artist.  He  helped  her  into  the  canoe 
in  the  gathering  dusk,  and  then  sat  down 
himself.  But  neither  of  them  saw  the 
look  of  anxiety  on  the  face  of  the  elder 
boatman.  He  knew  the  River  St. 
Maurice. 


CHAPTER  V. 


mm 


From  the  words  the  elder  boatman 
rapidly  addressed  to  the  younger,  it  was 
evident  to  Mr.  Trenton  that  the  half- 
breed  was  anxious  to  pass  the  rapids  be- 
fore it  became  very  much  darker. 

The  landing  is  at  the  edge  of  compar- 
atively still  water.  At  the  bottom  ^f  the 
falls  the  river  turns  an  acute  angle  and 
flows  to  the  west.  At  the  landing  it 
turns  with  equal  abruptness,  and  flows 
south. 

The  short  westward  section  of  the 
river  from  the  falls  to  the  point  where 
they  landed  is  a  wild,  turbulent  rapid,  in 
which  no  boat  can  live  for  a  moment. 
From  the  Point  downwards,  although  the 
water  is  covered  with  foam,  only  one  dan- 
gerous place  has  to  be  passed.  Toward 
that  spot  the  stalwart  half-breeds  bent  all 
their  energy  in  forcing  the  canoe  down 
with  the  current.  The  canoe  shot  over 
the  darkening  rapid  with  the  speed  of  an 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


69 


the 

lere 

in 

int. 

Ithe 

lan- 

.rd 

all 

fwn 

er 

an 


arrow.  If  but  one  or  two  persons  had 
been  in  it,  the  chances  are  the  passage 
would  have  been  made  in  safety.  As  it 
was  one  wrong  turn  of  the  paddle  by  the 
younger  half-breed  did  the  mischief. 
The  bottom  barely  touched  a  sharp- 
pointed  hidden  rock,  and  in  an  instant 
the  canoe  was  slit  open  as  with  a  knife. 

As  he  sat  there  Trenton  felt  the  cold 
water  rise  around  him  with  a  quickness 
that  prevented  his  doing  anything,  even 
if  he  had  known  what  to  do. 

"Sit  still  !  "  cried  the  elder  boatman  ; 
and  then  to  the  younger  he  shouted 
sharply,  "  The  shore  !  " 

They  were  almost  under  the  hanging 
trees  when  the  four  found  themselves  in 
the  water.  Trenton  grasped  an  over- 
hanging branch  with  one  hand,  and  with 
the  other  caught  Miss  Sommerton  by  the 
arm.  For  a  moment  it  was  doubtful 
whether  the  branch  would  hold.  The 
current  was  very  swift,  and  it  threw  each 
of  them  against  the  rock  bank,  and  bent 
the  branch  down  into  the  water. 

"  Catch  hold  of  me  !  "  cried  Trenton. 
"  Catch  hold  of  my  coat ;  I  need  both 
hands." 


f!  '' 


:  ';1H 


70 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


Miss  Sommerton,  who  had  acted  with 
commendable  bravery  throughout,  did  as 
she  was  directed.  Trenton,  with  his 
released  hand,  worked  himself  slowly  up 
the  branch,  hand  over  hand,  and  finally 
catching  a  sapling  that  grew  close  to  the 
water's  edge,  with  a  firm  hold,  reached 
down  and  helped  Miss  Sommerton  on  the 
bank.  Then  he  slowly  drew  himself  up 
to  a  safe  position  and  looked  around  for 
any  signs  of  the  boatmen.  He  shouted 
loudly,  but  there  was  no  answer. 

"Are  they  drowned,  do  you  think?" 
asked  Miss  Sommerton,  anxiously. 

"  No,  I  don't  suppose  they  are ;  I  don't 
think  you  could  drown  a  half-breed. 
They  have  done  their  best  to  drown  us, 
and  as  we  have  escaped  I  see  no  reason 
why  they  should  drown." 

"  Oh,  it's  all  my  fault !  all  my  fault  !  " 
wailed  Miss  Sommerton. 

"  It  is,  indeed,"  answered  Trenton, 
briefly. 

She  tried  to  straighten  herself  up,  but, 
too  wet  and  chilled  and  limp  to  be  heroic, 
she  sank  on  a  rock  and  began  to  cry. 

"  Please  don't  do  that,"  said  the  artist 
softly.       "  Of    course    I   shouldn't  have 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


71 


fton, 

|but, 
-oic, 

Irtist 
lave 


agreed  with  you.  I  beg  pardon  for  hav- 
ing done  so,  but  now  that  we  are  here, 
you  are  not  to  shirk  your  share  of  the 
duties.  I  want  you  to  search  around  and 
get  materials  for  a  fire." 

"  Search  around  ? "  cried  Miss  Sommer- 
ton  dolefully. 

"Yes,  search  around.  Hunt,  as  you 
Americans  say.  You  have  got  us  into 
this  scrape,  so  I  don't  propose  you  shall 
sit  calmly  by  and  not  take  any  of  the 
consequences." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  insult  me,  Mr.  Tren- 
ton, now  that  1  am  helpless  ?  " 

"  If  it  is  an  insult  to  ask  you  to  get  up 
and  gather  some  wood  and  bring  it  here, 
then  I  do  mean  to  insult  you  most  em- 
phatically. I  shall  gather  some,  too,  for 
we  shall  need  a  quantity  of  it." 

Miss  Sommerton  rose  indignantly,  and 
was  on  the  point  of  threatening  to  leave 
the  place,  when  a  moment's  reflection 
showed  her  that  she  didn't  know  where 
to  go,  and  remembering  she  was  not  as 
brave  in  the  darkness  and  in  the  woods 
as  in  Boston,  she  meekly  set  about  the 
search  for  dry  twigs  and  sticks.  Fling- 
ing down  the  bundle  near  the  heap  Tren- 


72 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


m^ 


ton  had  already  collected,  the  young 
woman  burst  into  a  laugh. 

'*  Do  you  see  anything  particularly 
funny  in  the  situation  ?  "  asked  Trenton, 
with  chattering  teeth.  *'  I  confess  1  do 
not." 

"The  funniness  of  the  situation  is  that 
we  should  gather  wood,  when,  if  there  is 
a  match  in  your  pocket,  it  must  be  so  wet 
as  to  be  useless." 

'*  Oh,  not  at  all.  You  must  remember 
I  come  from  a  very  damp  climate,  and 
we  take  care  of  our  matches  there.  I 
have  been  in  the  water  before  now  on  a 
tramp,  and  my  matches  are  in  a  silver 
case  warranted  to  keep  out  the  wet."  As 
he  said  this  Trenton  struck  a  light,  and 
applied  it  to  the  small  twigs  and  dry 
autumn  leaves.  The  flames  flashed  up 
through  the  larger  sticks,  and  in  a  very 
few  moments  a  cheering  fire  was  blazing, 
over  which  Trenton  threw  armful  after 
armful  of  the  wood  he  had  collected. 

"  Now,"  said  the  artist,  "  if  you  will 
take  off  what  outer  wraps  you  have  on, 
we  can  spread  them  here,  and  dry  them. 
Then  if  you  sit,  first  facing  the  fire  and 
next  with  your  back  to  it,  and  maintain  a 


m 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


73 


sort  of  rotatory  motion,  it  will  not  be 
long  before  you  are  reasonably  dry  and 
warm." 

Miss  Sommerton  laughed,  but  there 
was  not  much  merriment  in  her  laughter. 

**  Was  there  ever  anything  so  supremely 
ridiculous?"  she  said.  "A  gentleman 
from  England  gathering  sticks,  and  a 
lady  from  Boston  gyrating  before  the 
fire.  I  am  glad  you  are  not  a  newspaper 
man,  for  you  might  be  tempted  to  write 
about  the  situation  for  some  sensational 
paper." 

"  How  do  you  know  I  am  not  a  journal- 
ist ? " 

"Well,  I  hope  you  are  not.  I  thought 
you  were  a  photographer." 

"  Oh,  not  a  professional  photographer, 
you  know." 

"  I  am  sorry  ;  I  prefer  the  professional 
to  the  amateur." 

"  I  like  to  hear  you  say  that." 

"  Why  ?  It  is  not  very  complimentary, 
I  am  sure." 

"  The  very  reason  I  like  to  hear  you 
say  it.  If  you  were  complimentary  I 
would  be  afraid  you  were  going  to  take  a 
chill  and  be  ill  after  this  disaster ;  but 


i   <1 


74 


ONE  D/IY'S  COURTSHIP. 


rti 


now  that  you  are  yourself  again,  I  have 
no  such  fear." 

"Myself  again!"  blazed  the  young 
woman.  "  What  do  you  know  about  me  ? 
How  do  you  know  whether  I  am  myself 
or  somebody  else  ?  I  am  sure  our  ac- 
quaintance has  been  very  short." 

"Counted  by  time,  yes.  But  an  inci- 
dent like  this,  in  the  wilderness,  does 
more  to  form  a  friendship,  or  the  reverse, 
than  years  of  ordinary  acquaintance  in 
Boston  or  London.  You  ask  how  I  know 
that  you  are  yourself.     Shall  I  tell  you  ? " 

"  If  you  please." 

"  Well,  I  imagine  you  are  a  young  lady 
who  has  been  spoilt.  I  think  probably 
you  are  rich,  and  have  had  a  good  deal 
of  your  own  way  in  this  world.  In  fact, 
I  take  it  for  granted  that  you  have  never 
met  any  one  who  frankly  told  you  your 
faults.  Even  if  such  good  fortune  hai 
been  yours,  I  doubt  if  you  would  have 
profited  by  it.  A  snub  would  have  been 
the  reward  of  the  courageous  persion  who 
told  Miss  Sommerton  her  failings." 

"  I  presume  you  have  courage  enough 
to  tell  me  my  faults  without  the  fear  of  a 
snub  before  your  eyes." 


h  ! 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


n 


"  I  have  the  courage,  yes.  You  see  I 
have  already  received  the  snub  three  or 
four  times,  and  it  has  lost  its  terrors  for 
me." 

**  In  that  case,  will  you  be  kind 
enough  to  tell  me  what  you  consider  my 
faults  ? " 

*'If  you  wish  me  to." 

"  I  do  wish  it." 

"  Well,  then,  one  of  them  is  inordinate 
pride." 

"  Do  you  think  pride  a  fault  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  usually  reckoned  one  of  the 
virtues." 

"  In  this  country,  Mr.  Trenton,  we  con- 
sider that  every  person  should  have  a 
certain  amount  of  pride." 

"  A  certain  amount  may  be  ail  right. 
It  depends  entirely  on  how  much  the 
certain  amount  is." 

"  Well,  now  for  fault  No.  2." 

"  Fault  No.  2  is  a  disregard  on  your 
part  for  the  feelings  of  others.  This 
aribos,  I  imagine,  partly  from  fault  No.  i. 
You  are  in  the  habit  of  classing  the  great 
mass  of  the  public  very  much  beneath 
you  in  intellect  and  other  qualities,  and 
you  forget  that   persons  whom   you   may 


;  )| 


76 


ONE  DAVS  COURTSHIP. 


m 


"I 

I  ! 


If) 


I! 


I'n  I 


perhaps  dislike,  have  feelings  which  you 
have  no  right  to  ignore." 

"  1  presume  you  refer  to  this  morn- 
ing," said  Miss  Sommerton,  seriously. 
"  I  apologised  for  that  two  or  three 
times,  I  think.  I  have  always  understood 
that  a  gentleman  regards  an  apology 
from  another  gentleman  as  blotting  out 
the  original  offence.  Why  should  he  not 
regard  it  in  the  same  light  when  it  comes 
from  a  woman  ?" 

**  Oh,  now  you  are  making  a  personal 
matter  of  it.  I  am  talking  in  an  entirely 
impersonal  sense.  I  am  merely  giving 
you,  with  brutal  rudeness,  opinions  formed 
on  a  very  short  ac(}uaintance.  Remem- 
ber, I  have  done  so  at  your  own  re- 
(juest." 

**I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  I  am 
sure.  I  think  you  are  more  than  half  right. 
1  hope  the  list  is  not  much  longer." 

**  No,  the  list  ends  there.  I  suppose 
you  imagine  that  I  am  one  of  the  rudest 
men  you  ever  met  ?" 

"  No,  we  generally  expect  rudeness 
from  Englishmen." 

"  Oh,  do  you  really  ?  Then  I  am  only 
keeping  up   the  reputation  my  country- 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


77 


re- 


)nly 
try- 


men  have  already  acquired  in  America. 
Have  you  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  a 
rude  Englishman  before  ?  " 

"  No,  I  can't  say  that  I  have.  Most 
Englishmen  1  have  met  have  been  what 
we  call  very  gentlemanly  indeed.  But 
the  rudest  letter  I  ever  received  was  from 
an  Englishman  ;  not  only  rude,  but  un- 
grateful, for  I  had  bought  at  a  very  high 
price  one  of  his  landscapes.  He  was 
John  Trenton,  the  artist,  of  London.  Do 
you  know  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  hesitated  Trenton,  "  I  know 
him.  I  may  say  I  know  him  very  well. 
In  fact,  he  is  a  namesake  of  mine." 

"Why,  how  curious  it  is  I  had   never 

thought  of  that.    Is  your  first  name  J , 

the  same  as  his  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Not  a  relative,  is  he  ?  " 

"Well,  no.  I  don't  think  I  can  call 
him  a  rela'"ve.  I  don't  know  that  I  can 
even  go  so  far  as  to  call  him  my  friend, 
but  he  is  an  acquaintance." 

"  Oh,  tell  me  about  him,"  cried  Miss 
Sommerton,  enthusiastically.  "  He  is 
one  of  the  Englishmen  I  have  longed 
very  much  to  meet." 


78 


ONE  D/tY'S  COURTSHIP. 


?  ! 


"Then  you  forgave  him  his  rude  let- 
ter?" 

*•  Oh,  I  forgave  tliat  long  ago.  I  don't 
know  that  it  was  rude,  after  all.  It  was 
truthful.  I  presume  the  truth  offended 
me." 

"Well,"  said  Trenton,  "truth  has  to 
be  handled  very  delicately,  or  it  is  ai)t  to 
give  offence.  You  bought  a  landscape  of 
his,  did  you  ?  Which  one,  do  you  remem- 
ber ?  •• 

"  It  was  a  picture  of  the  Thames  val- 
ley." 

"Ah,  1  don't  recall  it  at  the  moment. 
A  rather  hackneyed  subject,  too.  l*rob- 
ably  he  sent  it  to  America  because  he 
couldn't  sell  it  in  England." 

"  Oh,  1  suppose  you  think  we  buy  any- 
thing here  that  the  English  refuse,  I 
beg  to  inform  you  this  picture  had  a  place 
in  the  Royal  Academy,  and  was  very 
highly  spoken  of  by  the  critics.  I  bought 
it  in  England," 

"  Oh  yes,  I  remember  it  now,  '  The 
Thames  at  Sonning.'  Still,  it  was  a  hack- 
neyed subject,  although  reasonably  well 
treated." 

"  Reasonably  well  !     I  think  it  one  of 


ONE  D/IY'S  COURTSHIP. 


79 


the  finest  landscape  pictures  of  the  cen- 
tury." 

*'  Well,  in  that  at  least  'I'renton  would 
agree  with  you." 

**  He  is  very  conceited,  you  mean  ?" 

"Jwen  his  enemies  admit  that." 

"1  don't  believe  it.  1  don't  believe  a 
man  of  such  talent  could  be  so  con- 
ceited." 

"Then,  Miss  Sommcrton,  allow  me  to 
say  you  have  very  little  knowledge  of 
human  nature.  It  is  only  reasonable 
that  a  great  man  should  know  he  is  a 
great  man.  Most  of  our  great  men  are 
conceited.  1  would  like  to  see  Trenton's 
letter  to  you.  1  could  then  have  a  good 
deal  of  amusement  at  his  expense  when 
1  get  back." 

*'  Well,  in  that  case  I  can  assure  you 
that  you  will  never  see  the  letter." 

"Ah,  you  destroyed  it,  did  you?" 

"  Not  for  that  reason." 

*'  Then  you  did  destroy  it  ?  " 

*'  I  tore  it  up,  but  on  second  thoughts  I 
pasted  it  together  again,  and  have  it 
still." 

"  In  that  case,  why  should  you  object 
to  showing  me  the  letter  ?" 


w 


80 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


: 


"  Well,  because  I  think  it  rather  un- 
usual for  a  lady  to  be  asked  by  a  gentle- 
man show  him  a  letter  that  has  been  writ- 
ten to  her  Yy  another  gentleman." 

"  In  matters  of  the  heart  that  is  true  ; 
but  in  matters  of  art  it  is  not." 

"  Is  that  intended  for  a  pun  ?  ** 

"It  is  as  near  to  one  as  I  ever  allow 
myself  to  con^^i.  I  should  like  very 
much  to  see  Mr.  Trenton's  letter.  It  was 
probably  brutally  rude.  I  know  the 
man,  you  see." 

"It  was  nothing  of  the  sort,"  replied 
Miss  Sommerton,  hotly.  "  It  was  a  truth- 
ful, well-meant  letter." 

"And  yet  you  tore  it  up  ?" 

"  But  that  was  the  first  impulse.  The 
pasting  it  together  was  the  apology." 

"  And  you  will  not  show  it  to  me  ?** 

"  No,  I  will  not." 

"  Did  you  answer  it  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you  nothing  more  about  it. 
I  am  sorry  I  spoke  of  the  letter  at  all. 
You  don't  appreciate  Mr.  Trenton's 
work." 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,  I  do.  He 
has  no  greater  admirer  in  England  than 
I  am — except  himself,  of  course." 


ONE  DAY'S  COURi'SHIP. 


8i 


"  I  suppose  it  makes  no  difference  to 
you  to  know  that  I  don't  like  a  remark 
like  that." 

"  Oh,  I  thought  it  would  please  you. 
You  see,  with  the  exception  of  myself, 
Mr.  Trenton  is  about  the  rudest  man  in 
England.  In  fact,  I  begin  to  suspect  it 
was  Mr.  Trenton's  letter  that  led  you  to 
a  wholesale  condemning  of  the  Flnglish 
race,  for  you  admit  the  Englishmen  you 
have  met  were  not  rude." 

"You  forget  I  have  met  you  since 
then." 

"Well  bowled,  as  we  say  in  cricket." 

"  Has   Mr.   Trenton    many   friends   in 

l.^-^Oil  ? " 

Not  a  great  number.  He  is  a  man 
who  sticks  rather  closely  to  his  work, 
and,  as  I  said  before,  he  prides  himself 
on  telling  the  truth.  That  doesn't  do  in 
London  any  more  than  it  does  in  Boston." 

"Well,  I  honour  him  for  it." 

"  Oh,  certainly  ;  everybody  does  in  the 
abstract.  But  it  is  not  a  quality  that 
tends  to  the  making  or  the  keeping  of 
friends,  you  know." 

"  If  you  see  Mr.  Trenton  when  you 
return,  I  wish  you  would  tell  him  there 


i 


i! 


f  * 


J  ! 


82 


ONE  D/tY'S  COURTSHIP. 


is  a  lady  in  America  wlio  is  a  friend  of 
his  ;  and  if  he  has  any  pictures  the  peo- 
ple over  there  do  not  appreciate,  ask  him 
to  send  them  to  Boston,  and  his  friend 
will  buy  them." 

"  Then  you  must  be  rich,  for  his  pic- 
tures bring  very  good  prices,  even  in 
England." 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  Sommerton,  "  I  am 
rich." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  it's  very  jolly  to  be 
rich,"  replied  the  artist,  with  a  sigh. 

"  You  are  not  rich,  then,  I  imagine  ?  ** 

"  No,  I  am  not.  That  is,  not  compared 
with  your  American  fortunes.  I  have 
enough  of  money  to  let  me  roam  around 
the  world  if  I  wish  to,  and  get  half 
drowned  in  the  St.  Maurice  River." 

"  Oh,  is  it  not  strange  that  we  have 
heard  nothing  from  those  boatmen  ? 
You  surely  don't  imagine  they  could  have 
been  drowned  ? " 

"  I  hardly  think  so.  Still,  it  is  quite 
possible." 

"Oh,  don't  say  that ;  it  makes  me  feel 
like  a  murderer." 

"  Well,  I  think  it  was  a  good  deal  your 
fault,  don't  you  know." 


ONE  D/IVS  COURTSHIP. 


83 


Miss  Sommerton  looked  at  him. 

**  Have  I  not  been  punished  enough 
already  ? "  she  said. 

"  For  the  death  of  two  men — if  they 
are  dead  ?  Bless  me  !  no.  Do  you  im- 
agine for  a  moment  there  is  any  relation 
between  the  punishment  and  the  fault  ?  " 

Miss  Sommerton  buried  her  face  in  her 
hands. 

"Oh,  I  take  that  back,"  said  Trenton. 
"  I  didn't  mean  to  say  such  a  thing." 

"  It  is  the  truth— it  is  the  truth  !  " 
wailed  the  young  woman.  "  Do  you  hon- 
estly think  they  did  not  reach  the 
shore?" 

"  Of  course  they  did.  If  you  want  to 
know  what  has  happened,  I'll  tell  you 
exactly,  and  back  my  opinion  by  a  bet 
if  you  like.  An  Englishman  is  always 
ready  to  back  his  opinion,  you  know. 
Those  two  men  swam  with  the  current 
until  they  came  to  some  landing-place. 
They  evidently  think  we  are  drowned. 
Nevertheless,  they  are  now  making  their 
way  through  the  woods  to  the  settlement. 
Then  comes  the  hubbub.  Mason  will  stir 
up  the  neighbourhood,  and  the  men  who 
are  back  from  the  woods  with  the  other 


JT* 


i 


84 


OW;  D//y"5  COURTSHIP. 


^ 


i  iii 


canoes  will  be  roused  and  pressed  into 
service,  and  some  time  to-night  we  will 
be  rescued." 

"  Oh,  I  hope  that  is  the  case,"  cried 
Miss  Sommerton,  looking  brightly  at 
him. 

"  It  is  the  case.  Will  you  bet  about 
it?" 

*'  I  never  bet,"  said  Miss  Sommerton. 

*'  Ah,  well,  you  miss  a  good  deal  of  fun 
then.  You  see  I  am  a  bit  of  a  mind 
reader.  1  can  tell  just  about  where  the 
men  are  now." 

*'  I  don't  believe  much  in  mind  read- 
ing." 

"  Don't  you  ?  Shall  1  give  you  a  speci- 
men of  it  ?  Take  that  letter  we  have 
spoken  so  much  about.  If  you  think  ii 
over  in  your  mind  I  will  read  you  the 
letter — not  word  for  word,  perhaps,  but  I 
shall  give  you  gist  of  it,  at  least." 

"  Oh,  impossible  !  " 

"  Do  you  remember  it  ?  " 

**  I  have  it  with  me." 

"  Oh,  have  you  ?  Then,  if  you  wish  to 
preserve  it,  you  should  spread  it  out  upon 
the  ground  to  dry  before  the  fire." 

"There    is  no   need    of   my  producing 


ONE  DAYS  COURTSHIP. 


«S 


the  letter,"  replied  MissSommerton  ;  "  I 
remember  every  word  of  it." 

"  Very  well,  just  think  it  over  in  your 
mind,  and  see  if  I  cannot  repeat  it.  Are 
you  thinkin;^  about  it  ?  " 

**  Yes,  I  am  thinkin^i^  about  it." 

"  Here  goes,  then.  *  Miss  Edith  Som- 
merton '  " 

"  Wrong,"  said  that  young  lady. 

"  The  Sommerton  is  right,  is  it  not  ?" 

"  Yes,  but  the  first  name  is  not." 

"  What  is  it,  then  ?  " 

"I  shall  not  tell  you." 

"  Oh,  very  well.  Miss  Sommerton, — 
'  I  have  some  hesitation  in  answering  your 
letter.*  Oh,  by  the  way,  I  forgot  the  ad- 
dress. That  is  the  first  sentence  of  the 
letter,  but  the  address  is  some  number 
which  I  cannot  quite  see,  '  Beacon  Street, 
Boston.'  Is  there  any  such  street  in  that 
city?" 

"There  is,"  said  Miss  Sommerton. 
"  What  a  (question  to  ask." 

**  Ah,  then  Beacon  Street  is  one  of  the 
principal  streets,  is  it?" 

"One  of  them  ?  It  is  the  street.  It  is 
Boston." 

"  Very  good.     I  will  now  proceed  with 


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86 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


the  letter.  *  I  have  some  hesitation  in 
answering  your  letter,  because  the 
sketches  you  send  are  so  bad,  that  it 
seems  to  me  no  one  could  seriously  for- 
ward them  to  an  artist  for  criticism. 
However,  if  you  really  desire  criticism, 
and  if  the  pictures  are  sent  in  good  faith, 
I  may  say  I  see  in  them  no  merit  what- 
ever, not  even  good  drawing  ;  while  the 
colours  are  put  on  in  a  way  that  would 
seem  to  indicate  you  have  not  yet  learned 
the  fundamental  principle  of  mixing  the 
paints.  If  you  are  thinking  of  earning  a 
livelihood  with  your  pencil,  I  strongly  ad- 
vise you  to  abandon  the  idea.  But  if 
you  are  a  lady  of  leisure  and  wealth,  I 
suppose  there  is  no  harm  in  your  contin- 
uing as  long  as  you  see  fit. — Yours  truly, 
John  Trenton.'  " 

Miss  Sommerton,  whose  eyes  had 
opened  wider  and  wider  as  this  reading 
went  on,  said  sharply — 

"  He  has  shown  you  the  letter.  You 
have  seen  it  before  it  was  sent." 

"  I  admit  that,"  said  the  artist. 

"  Well — I  will  believe  all  you  like  to 
say  about  Mr.  John  Trenton." 

"  Now,  stop  a  moment ;  do  not  be  too 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP.  87 

sweeping  in  your  denunciation  of  him. 
I  know  that  Mr.  Trenton  showed  the 
letter  to  no  one." 

''  Why,  I  thought  you  said  a  moment 
ago  that  he  showed  it  to  you." 

"  He  did.  Yet  no  one  but  himself  saw 
the  letter." 

The  young  lady  sprang  to  her  feet. 
"  Are  you,  then,  John  Trenton,  the  ar- 
tist?" 

"Miss  Sorojnerton,  I  have  to  plead 
guilty." 


I':  '■ 

ii 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Miss  Eva  Sommerton  and  Mr.  John 
Trenton  stood  on  opposite  sides  of  the 
blazing  fire  and  looked  at  each  other.  A 
faint  smile  hovered  around  the  lips  of  the 
artist,  but  Miss  Sommerton's  face  was 
very  serious.     She  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  she  said,  '*  that  there 
is  something  about  all  this  that  smacks  of 
false  pretences, " 

"On  my  part.  Miss  Sommerton  ?" 

"  Certainly  on  your  part.  You  must 
have  known  all  along  that  ^  was  the  per- 
son who  had  written  the  letter  to  you.  I 
think,  when  you  found  that  out,  you 
should  have  spoken  of  it." 

*'  Then  you  do  not  give  me  credit  for 
the  honesty  of  speaking  now.  You  ought 
to  know  that  I  need  not  have  spoken  at 
all,  unless  I  wished  to  be  very  honest 
about  the  matter." 

"Yes,  there  is  that  to  be  said  in  your 
favour,  of  course." 


ONE  D/IYS  COURTSHIP. 


89 


"Well,  Miss  Sommerton,  I  hope  you 
will  consider  anything  that  happens  to  be 
in  my  favour.  You  see,  we  are  really  old 
friends,  after  all." 

"  Old  enemies,  you  mean," 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that.  I  would 
rather  look  on  myself  as  your  friend  than 
your  enemy." 

**  The  letter  you  wrote  me  was  not  a 
very  friendly  one." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure.  We  differ  on  that 
point,  you  know." 

"  I  am  afraid  we  differ  on  almost  every 
point." 

"  No,  I  differ  with  you  there  again. 
Still,  I  must  admit  I  would  prefer  being 
your  enemy " 

"To  being  my  friend?"  said  Miss 
Sommerton,  quickly. 

"  No,  to  being  entirely  indifferent  to 
you." 

"  Really,  Mr.  Trenton,  we  are  getting 
along  very  rapidly,  are  we  not?"  said 
the  young  lady,  without  looking  up  at 
him. 

"  Now,  I  am  pleased  to  be  able  to  agree 
with  you  there.  Miss  Sommerton.  As  I 
said   before,  an   incident   like   this  does 


n 


90 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


W   li: 


more  to  ripen  acquaintance  or  friendship, 

or '*     The  young  man  hesitated,  and 

did  not  complete  his  sentence. 

"  Well,"  said  the  artist,  after  a  pause, 
"which  is  it  to  be,  friends  or  enemies?" 

"  It  shall  be  exactly  as  you  say,"  she 
replied. 

"  If  you  leave  the  choice  to  me,  I  shall 
say  friends.     Let  us  shake  hands  on  that." 

She  held  out  her  hand  frankly  to  him 
as  he  crossed  over  to  her  side,  and  as  he 
took  it  in  his  own,  a  strange  thrill  passed 
through  him,  and  acting  on  the  impulse 
of  the  moment,  he  drew  her  toward  him 
and  kissed  her. 

"  How  dare  you  !  "  she  cried,  drawing 
herself  indignantly  from  him.  "  Do  you 
think  I  am  some  backwoods  girl  who  is 
flattered  by  your  preference  after  a  day's 
acquaintance  ?" 

"  Not  a  day's  acquaintance,  Miss  Som- 
merton — a  year,  two  years,  ten  years.  In 
fact,  I  feel  as  though  I  had  known  you 
all  my  life." 

"  You  certainly  act  as  if  you  had.  I 
did  think  for  some  time  past  that  you 
were  a  gentleman.  But  you  take  advan- 
tage now  of  my  unprotected  position." 


OhJE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


91 


hip, 
and 


Luse, 
she 


shall 
:hat." 
0  him 
as  he 
)assed 
npulse 
d  him 

rawing 
)o  you 
who  is 
day*s 

Som- 
rs.  In 
vn  you 

nad.     1 
lat  you 
advan- 


lon. 


»• 


"  Miss  Sommerton,  let  me  humbly  apol- 
ogise !  " 

"  I  shall  not  accept  your  apology.  It 
cannot  be  apologised  for.  I  must  ask 
you  not  to  speak  to  me  again  until  Mr. 
Mason  comes.  You  may  consider  your- 
self very  fortunate  when  I  tell  you  I  shall 
say  nothing  of  what  has  passed  to  Mr, 
Mason  when  he  arrives." 

John  Trenton  made  no  reply,  but  gath- 
ered another  armful  of  wood  and  flung  it 
on  the  fire. 

Miss  Sommerton  sat  very  dejectedly 
looking  at  the  embers. 

For  half  an  hour  neither  of  them  said 
anything. 

Suddenly  Trenton  jumped  up  and  lis- 
tened intently. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  cried  Miss  Sommerton, 
startled  by  his  action. 

"  Now,"  said  Trenton,  "  that  is  unfair. 
If  I  am  not  to  be  allowed  to  speak  to  you, 
you  must  not  ask  me  any  questions." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Miss  Som- 
merton, curtly. 

"  But  really  I  wanted  to  say  something, 
and  I  wanted  you  to  be  the  first  to  break 
the  contract  imposed.     May  I  say  what  I 


n  r 


(i 


I 


ill 


^r 


I'  i 


92 


ONE  D/iY'S  COURTSHIP. 


\h. 


wish  to?  I  have  just  thought  about 
something." 

"  If  you  have  thought  of  anything  that 
will  help  us  out  of  our  difficulty,  I  shall 
be  very  glad  to  hear  it  indeed." 

"  I  don't  know  that  it  will  help  us  out 
of  our  difficulties,  but  I  think  it  will  help 
us  now  that  we're  in  them.  You  know,  I 
presume,  that  my  camera,  like  John 
Brown's  knapsack,  was  strapped  on  my 
back,  and  that  it  is  one  of  the  few  things 
rescued  from  the  late  disaster  ?  " 

He  paused  for  a  reply,  but  she  said 
nothing.  She  evidently  was  not  inter- 
ested in  his  camera. 

"  Now,  that  camera-box  is  water-tight. 
It  is  really  a  very  natty  arrangement,  al- 
though you  regard  it  so  scornfully." 

He  paused  a  second  time,  but  there 
was  no  reply. 

"  Very  well ;  packed  in  that  box  is,  first 
the  camera,  then  the  dry  plates,  but  most 
important  of  all,  there  are  at  least  two  or 
three  very  nice  Three  Rivers  sandwiches. 
What  do  you  say  to  our  having  supper?" 

Miss  Sommerton  smiled  in  spite  of  her- 
self, and  Trenton  busily  unstrapped  the 
camera-box,  pulled  out  the  little   instru- 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


93 


ment,  and  fished  up  from  the  bottom  a 
neatly-folded  white  table-napkin,  in  which 
were  wrapped  several  sandwiches. 

"  Now,"  he  continued,  "  I  have  a  fold- 
ing drinking-cup  and  a  flask  of  sherry. 
It  shows  how  absent-minded  I  am,  for  I 
ought  to  have  thought  of  the  wine  long 
ago.  You  should  have  had  a  glass  of 
sherry  the  moment  we  landed  here.  By 
the  way,  I  wanted  to  say,  and  I  say  it  now 
in  case  I  shall  forget  it,  that  when  I  or- 
dered you  so  unceremoniously  to  go 
around  picking  up  sticks  for  the  fire,  it 
was  not  because  I  needed  assistance,  but 
to  keep  you,  if  possible,  from  getting  a 
chill." 

"  Very  kind  of  you,"  remarked  Miss 
Sommerton. 

But  the  Englishman  could  not  tell 
whether  she  meant  just  what  she  said  or 
not. 

"  I  wish  you  would  admit  that  you  are 
hungry.  Have  you  had  anything"  to  eat 
to-day?" 

"  I  had,  I  am  ashamed  to  confess,"  she 
answered.  "  I  took  lunch  with  me  and  I 
ate  it  coming  down  in  the  canoe.  That 
was  what  troubled  m     ^bout  you.     I  was 


j! 


94 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


iNf 


if  1 


afraid  you  had  eaten  nothing  all  day,  and 
I  wished  to  offer  you  some  lunch  when  we 
were  in  the  canoe,  but  scarcely  liked  to. 
I  thought  we  would  soon  reach  the  settle- 
ment. I  am  very  glad  you  have  sand- 
wiches with  you." 

**  How  little  you  Americans  really  know 
of  the  great  British  nation,  after  all. 
Now,  if  there  is  one  thing  more  than  an- 
other that  an  Englishman  looks  after,  it 
is  the  commissariat." 

After  a  moment's  silence  he  said — 

"  Don't  you  think.  Miss  Sommerton, 
that  notwithstanding  any  accident  or  dis- 
aster, or  misadventure  that  may  have 
happened,  we  might  get  back  at  least  on 
the  old  enemy  footing  again  ?  I  would 
like  to  apologise  " — he  paused  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  added,  "  for  the  letter  I  wrote 
you  ever  so  many  years  ago." 

"  There  seem  to  be  too  many  apologies 
between  us,"  she  replied.  "  I  shall  nei- 
ther give  nor  take  any  more." 

"  Well,"  he  answered,  "  I  think  after 
all  that  is  the  best  way.  You  ought  to 
treat  me  rather  kindly  though,  because 
you  are  the  cause  of  my  being  here." 

"  That  is  one  of  the  many  things  I  have 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


95 


apologised  for.  You  surely  do  not  wish 
to  taunt  me  with  it  again  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mean  the  recent  accident. 
(  mean  >>eing  here  in  America.  Your 
sketches  of  the  Shawenegan  Falls,  and 
your  description  of  the  Quebec  district, 
brought  me  out  to  America  ;  and,  added 
to  that — I  expected  to  meet  you." 

''  To  meet  me  ? " 

**  Certainly.  Perhaps  you  don't  know 
that  I  called  at  Beacon  Street,  and  found 
you  were  from  home — with  friends  in 
Canada,  they  said — and  I  want  to  say,  in 
self-defence,  that  I  came  very  well  intro- 
duced. I  brought  letters  to  people  in 
Boston  of  the  most  undoubted  respecta- 
bility, and  to  people  in  New  York,  who 
are  as  near  the  social  equals  of  the  Boston 
people  as  it  is  possible  for  mere  New 
York  persons  to  be.  Among  other  letters 
of  introduction  I  had  two  to  you.  I  saw 
the  house  in  Beacon  Street.  So,  you  see, 
I  have  no  delusions  about  your  being  a 
backwoods  girl,  as  you  charged  me  with 
having  a  short  time  since." 

"  I  would  rather  not  refer  to  that 
again,  if  you  please." 

*'Very   well.     Now,  I    have  one   ques- 


T^ 


i! 


'I 


fi  II 


M! 

I'     H  ' 


i 


[t 


96 


0A/£  D//r5  COUflTSHIP. 


tion  to  ask  you — one  request  to  make. 
Have  I  your  permission  to  make  it  ? " 

"  It  depends  entirely  on  what  your  re- 
quest is." 

"  Of  course,  in  that  case  you  cannot 
tell  until  I  make  it.  So  I  shall  now  make 
my  request,  and  I  want  you  to  remember, 
befdre  you  1  fuse  it,  that  you  are  indebted 
to  me  for  supper.  Miss  Sommerton,  give 
me  a  plug  of  tobacco." 

Miss  Sommerton  stood  up  in  dumb 
amazement. 

"  You  see,"  continued  the  artist,  paying 
no  heed  to  her  evident  resentment,  "  1 
have  lost  my  tobacco  in  the  marine  disas- 
ter, but  luckily  I  have  my  pipe.  I  admit 
the  scenery  is  beautiful  here,  if  we  could 
only  see  it  ;  but  darkness  is  all  around,  al- 
though the  moon  is  rising.  It  can  there- 
fore be  no  desecration  for  me  to  smoke  a 
pipeful  of  tobacco,  and  I  am  sure  the  to- 
bacco you  keep  will  be  the  very  best 
that  can  be  bought.  Won't  you  grant  my 
request,  Miss  Sommerton  ?  " 

At  first  Miss  Sommerton  seemed  to  re- 
sent the  audacity  of  this  request.  Then 
a  conscious  light  came  into  her  face,  and 
instinctively  her  hand  pressed  the  side  of 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


97 


her  dress  where  her  pocket  was  supposed 
to  be. 

"  Now,"  said  the  artist,  "  don't  deny 
that  you  have  the  tobacco.  I  told  you  I 
was  a  bit  of  a  mind  reader,  and  besides,  I 
have  been  informed  that  young  ladies  in 
America  are  rarely  without  the  weed,  and 
that  they  only  keep  the  best." 

The  situation  was  too  ridiculous  for 
Miss  Sommerton  to  remain  very  long  in- 
dignant about  it.  So  she  put  her  hand 
in  her  pocket  and  drew  out  a  plug  of  to- 
bacco, and  with  a  bow  handed  it  to  the 
artist, 

"  Thanks,"  he  replied  ;  "  I  shall  borrow 
a  pipeful  and  give  you  back  the  remain- 
der. Have  you  ever  tried  the  English 
birdseye  ?  I  assure  you  it  is  a  very  nice 
smoking  tobacco." 

"  I  presume,"  said  Miss  Sommerton, 
"  the  boatmen  told  you  I  always  gave 
them  some  tobacco  when  I  came  up  to 
see  the  falls  ? '" 

"Ah,  you  will  doubt  my  mind-reading 
gift.  Well,  honestly,  they  did  tell  me, 
and  I  thought  perhaps  you  might  by  good 
luck  have  it  with  you  now.  Besides,  you 
know,  wasn't  there  the  least   bit  of  hum- 


Mi 


-irrr 


i'r 


Ri 


I.U 


?M 


■    m 


98 


0A^£  D.^r'5  COURTSHIP. 


bug  about  your  objection  to  smoking  as 
we  came  up  the  river  ?  If  you  really  ob- 
ject to  smoking,  of  course  I  shall  not 
smoke  now." 

*'  Oh,  I  haven't  the  least  objection  to  it. 
I  am  sorry  I  have  not  a  good  cigar  to 
offer  you." 

"Thank  you.  But  this  is  quite  as  ac- 
ceptable. We  rarely  use  plug  tobacco  in 
England,  but  I  find  some  of  it  in  this  coun- 
try is  very  good  indeed." 

"  I  must  confess,"  said  Miss  Sommer- 
ton,  "  that  I  have  very  little  interest  in 
the  subject  of  tobacco.  But  T  cannot  see 
why  we  should  not  have  good  tobacco  in 
this  country.     We  grow  it  here." 

"  That's  so,  when  you  come  to  think  of 
it,"  answered  the  artist. 

Trenton  sat  with  his  back  against  the 
tree,  smoking  in  a  meditative  manner, 
and  watching  the  flicker  of  the  firelight 
on  the  face  of  his  companion,  whose 
thoughts  seemed  to  be  concentrated  on 
the  embers. 

"  Miss  Sommerton,"  he  said  at  last,  "  I 
woi:1d  like  permission  to  ask  you  a 
second  question. 

"  You  have  it,"  replied  that  lady,  with- 


ONE  D/IY'S  COURTSHIP. 


99 


out  looking  up.  "  But  to  prevent  disap- 
pointment, I  may  say  this  is  all  t^e  to- 
bacco I  have.  The  rest  I  left  in  the 
canoe  when  I  went  up  to  the  falls." 

**  I  shall  try  to  bear  the  disappointment 
as  well  as  I  may.  But  in  this  case  the 
question  is  of  a  very  different  nature.  I 
don't  know  just  exactly  how  to  put  it. 
You  may  have  noticed  that  I  am  rather 
awkward  when  it  comes  to  saying  the 
right  thing  at  the  right  time.  I  have  not 
been  much  accustomed  to  society,  and  I 
am  rather  a  blunt  man." 

"  Many  persons,"  said  Miss  Sommerton 
with  some  severity,  "  pride  themselves  on 
their  bluntness.  They  seem  to  think  it 
an  excuse  for  saying  rude  things.  There 
is  a  sort  of  superstition  that  bluntness 
and  honesty  go  together." 

"Well,  that  is  not  very  encouraging. 
However,  I  do  not  pride  myself  on  my 
bluntness,  but  rather  regret  it.  I  was 
merely  stating  a  condition  of  things,  not 
making  a  boast.  In  this  instance  I  imag- 
ine I  can  show  that  honesty  is  the  accom- 
paniment. The  question  I  wished  to  ask 
was  something  like  this :  Suppose  I  had 
had  the  chance  to  present  to  you  my  lei- 


II 


■d'  '\ 


f 


lOO 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


ters  of  introduction,  and  suppose  that  we 
had  known  each  other  for  some  time,  and 
suppose  that  everything  had  been  very 
conventional,  instead  of  somewhat  uncon- 
ventional ;  supposing  all  this,  would  you 
have  deemed  a  recent  action  of  mine 
so  unpardonable  as  you  did  a  while 
ago  ? " 

"  You  said  you  were  not  referring  to 
smoking." 

"  Neither  am  I.  I  am  referring  to  my 
having  kissed  you.  There's  bluntness 
for  you." 

"  My  dear  sir,"  replied  Miss  Sommer- 
ton,  shading  her  face  with  her  hand,  "you 
know  nothing  whatever  of  me," 

"  That  is  rather  evading  the  question.' 

"Well,  then,  I  know  nothing  whatever 
of  you." 

"  That  is  the  second  evasion.  I  am 
taking  it  for  granted  that  we  each  know 
something  of  the  other." 

"I  should  think  it  would  depend  en- 
tirely on  how  the  knowledge  influenced 
each  party  in  the  case.  It  is  such  a 
purely  supposititious  state  of  things  that 
I  cannot  see  how  I  can  answer  your  ques- 
tion.    I  suppose  you  have  heard  the  ad- 


l\\ 


I' 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP, 


lOI 


:  we 
and 
very 
con- 
you 
mine 
while 

ng  to 

to  my 
[itness 

mmer- 
"you 

stion." 
atever 

I  am 
know 

Ind   en- 
uenced 
I  such   a 
igs  that 
ir  ques- 
the  ad- 


age about   not   crossing   a   bridge   until 
you  come  to  it." 

"  I  thought  it  was  a  stream." 

"  Well,  a  stream  then.  The  principle 
is  the  same." 

"  I  was  afraid  I  would  not  be  able  to 
put  the  question  in  a  way  to  make  you 
understand  it.  I  shall  now  fall  back  on 
my  bluntness  again,  and  with  this  ques- 
tion, are  you  betrothed  ?  " 

"  We  generally  call  it  engaged  in  this 
country." 

**  Then  I  shall  translate  my  question 
into  the  language  of  the  country,  and  ask 
if " 

"  Oh,  don't  ask  it,  please.  I  shall 
answer  before  you  do  ask  it  by  saying, 
No.  I  do  not  know  why  I  should  coun- 
tenance your  bluntness,  as  you  call  it,  by 
giving  you  an  answer  to  such  a  question  ; 
but  I  do  so  on  condition  that  the  ques- 
tion is  the  last." 

"  But  the  second  question  cannot  be 
the  last.  There  is  always  tlie  third  read- 
ing of  a  bill.  The  auctioneer  usually 
cries,  '  Third  and  last  time,'  not '  Second 
and  last  time,'  and  the  banns  of  approach- 
ing marriage  are  called  out  three  times. 


w 


f:-i-  ^m 


HBan 


h» 


<  *ir 

Vim  I- 


•    if 


Mi 

J 


10 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


So,  you  see,  T  have  the  right  to  ask  you 
one  more  question." 

"Very  well.  A  person  may  somedmes 
have  the  right  to  do  a  thing,  and  yet  be 
very  foolish  in  exercising  that  right." 

"  I  accept  your  warning,"  said  the 
artist,  "  and  reserve  my  right." 

"  What  time  is  it,  do  you  think  ?  "  she 
asked  him. 

"  I  haven't  the  least  idea,"  he  replied  ; 
**  my  watch  has  stopped.  That  case  was 
warranted  to  resist  water,  but  I  doubt  if 
it  has  done  so." 

"  Don't  you  think  that  if  the  men  man- 
aged to  save  themselves  they  would  have 
been  here  by  this  time  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know.  I  have  no 
idea  of  the  distance.  Perhaps  they  may 
have  taken  it  for  granted  we  are  drowned, 
and  so  there  is  one  chance  in  a  thousand 
that  they  may  not  come  back  at  all." 

**  Oh,  I  do  not  think  such  a  thing  is 
possible.  The  moment  Mr.  Mason  heard 
of  the  disaster  he  would  come  without 
delay,  no  matter  what  Fie  might  believe 
the  result  of  the  accident  to  be." 

"  Yes,  I  think  you  are  right.  I  shall 
try  to  get  out  on  this  point  and  see  if  I 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


103 


IS 

iard 
^out 

eve 

hall 
lif  I 


can  discover  anything  of  them.  The 
moon  now  lights  up  the  river,  and  if 
they  are  within  a  reasonable  distance  I 
think  I  can  see  them  from  this  point  of 
rock." 

The  artist  climbed  up  on  the  point, 
which  projected  over  the  river.  The 
footing  was  not  of  the  safest,  and  Miss 
Sommerton  watched  him  with  some 
anxiety  as  he  slipped  and  stumbled  and 
kept  his  place  by  holding  on  to  the 
branches  of  the  overhanging  trees. 

"Pray  be  careful,  Mr.  Trenton,"  she 
said  ;  "  remember  you  are  over  the  water 
there,  and  it  is  very  swift." 

"  The  rocks  seem  rather  slippery  with 
the  dew,"  answered  the  artist;  "but  I 
am  reasonably  surefooted." 

"  Well,  please  don't  take  any  chances  ; 
for,  disagreeable  as  you  are,  I  don't  wish 
to  be  left  here  alone." 

"  Thank  you,  Miss  Sommerton." 

The  artist  stood  on  the  point  of  rock, 
and,  holding  by  a  branch  of  a  tree,  peered 
out  over  the  river. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Trenton,  don't  do  that  ! " 
cried  the  young  lady,  with  alarm.  "  Please 
come  back." 


ftr 


I 
I 


IP 


■  !  I  il! 


104 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


1^     i 


iil  i 


"  Say  *  John,'  then,"  replied  the  gentle- 
man. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Trenton,  don't  !  "  she  cried 
as  he  leaned  still  further  over  the  water, 
straining  the  branch  to  its  utmost. 

"  Say  *  John.'  " 

"  Mr.  Trenton." 

"'John.'" 

The  branch  cracked  ominously  as 
Trenton  leaned  yet  a  little  further. 

"  John  !  "  cried  the  young  lady,  sharply, 
"  cease  your  fooling  and  come  down  from 
that  rock." 

The  artist  instantly  recovered  his  posi- 
tion, and,  coming  back,  sprang  down  to 
the  ground  again. 

Miss  Sommerton  drew  back  in  alarm  ; 
but  Trenton  merely  put  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  and  said — 

"  Well,  Eva,  I  came  back  because  you 
called  me." 

"  It  was  a  case  of  coercion,"  she  said. 
**  You  English  are  too  fond  of  coercion. 
We  Americans  are  against  it." 

"  Oh,  I  am  a  Home  Ruler,  if  you  are," 
replied  the  artist.  "  Miss  Eva,  I  am  go- 
ing to  risk  my  third  and  last  question, 
and  I  shall  await  the  answer  with  more 


\\\ 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


105 


tle- 

ried 
iter, 


•     as 

from 

,  posi- 
wn  to 

larm  ; 
[in  his 

;e  you 

said, 
ircion. 

are, 
im  go- 

jstion, 
more 


anxiety  than  I  ever  felt  before  in  my  life. 
The  question  is  this  :  ^Vill " 

"  Hello  !  there  you  are.  Thank 
Heaven  !  I  was  never  so  glad  to  see 
anybody  in  my  life,"  cried  the  cheery 
voice  of  Ed.  Mason,  as  he  broke  through 
the  bushes  towards  them. 

Trenton  looked  around  with  anything 
but  a  welcome  on  his  brow.  If  Mason 
had  never  been  so  glad  in  his  life  to  see 
anybody,  it  was  quite  evident  his  feeling 
was  not  entirely  reciprocated  by  the 
artist. 

'*  How  the  deuce  did  you  get  here  ?  " 
asked  Trenton.  "1  was  just  looking  for 
you  down  the  river." 

"  Well,  you  see,  we  kept  pretty  close  to 
the  shore.  I  doubt  if  you  could  have 
seen  us.     Didn't  you  hear  us  shout  ?" 

"  No,  we  didn't  hear  anything.  We 
didn't  hear  them  shout,  did  we,  Miss 
Sommerton  ? " 

"  No,"  replied  that  young  woman,  look- 
ing at  the  dying  fire,  whose  glowing 
embers  seemed  to  redden  her  face. 

"Why,  do  you  know,"  said  Mason,  "it 
looks  as  if  you  had  been  quarrelling.  I 
guess  I  came  just  in  the  nick  of  time." 


«r? 


I||i 


r  '• 


1 06 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


"Yoa  are  always  just  in  time,  Mr. 
Mason,"  said  Miss  Sommerton.  *'  For 
we  were  quarrelling,  as  you  say.  The 
subject  of  the  quarrel  is  which  of  us  was 
rightful  owner  of  that  canoe." 

Mason  laughed  heartily,  while  Miss 
Sommerton  frowned  at  him  with  marked 
disapprobation. 

"  Then  you  found  me  out,  did  you  ? 
Well,  I  expected  you  would  before  the 
day  was  over.  You  see,  it  isn't  often 
that  I  have  to  deal  with  two  such  particu- 
lar people  in  the  same  day.  Still,  I  guess 
the  ownership  of  the  canoe  doesn't 
amount  to  much  now.  I'll  give  it  to  the 
one  who  finds  it." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Mason,"  cried  Miss  Sommer- 
ton, "did  the  two  men  escape  all  right?" 

"  Why,  certainly.  I  have  just  been 
giving  them  *Hail  Columbia,'  because 
they  didn't  come  back  to  you  ;  but  you 
see,  a  little  distance  down,  the  bank  gets 
very  steep — so  much  so  that  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  climb  it,  and  then  the  woods  here 
are  thick  and  hard  to  work  a  person's 
way  through.  So  they  thought  it  best  to 
come  down  and  tell  me,  and  we  have 
brought  two  canoes  up  with  us." 


ONll  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


107 


Mr. 
For 
The 
was 

Miss 
rked 

you? 

e  the 

often 

rticu- 

guess 

oesn't 

to  the 

mtner- 

ght  ?  - 

been 
ecause 
ut  you 
ik  gets 
npossi- 

,s  here 
,erson's 

best  to 

e  have 


"  Does  Mrs.  Mason  know  of  the  acci- 
dent ?" 

"  No,  she  doesn't ;  but  she  is  just  as 
anxious  as  if  she  did.  She  can't  think 
what  in  the  world  keeps  you." 

"  She  doesn't  realise,"  said  the  artist, 
"  what  strong  attractions  the  Shawenegan 
Falls  have  for  people  alive  to  the  beauties 
of  nature." 

"  Well,"  said  Mason,  "  we  mustn't  stand 
here  talking.  You  must  be  about  frozen 
to  death."  Here  he  shouted  to  one  of 
the  men  to  come  up  and  put  out  the  fire. 

"  Oh,  don't  bother,"  said  the  artist  ; 
"  it  will  soon  burn  out." 

"  Oh  yes,"  put  in  Ed.  Mason  ;  "  and  if 
a  wind  should  happen  to  rise  in  the  night, 
where  would  my  pine  forest  be  ?  I  don't 
propose  to  have  a  whole  section  of  the 
country  burnt  up  to  commemorate  the 
quarrel  between  you  two." 

The  half-breed  flung  the  biggest  brand 
into  the  river,  and  speedily  trampled  out 
the  rest,  carrying  up  some  water  in  his 
hat  to  pour  on  the  centre  of  the  fire. 
This  done,  they  stepped  into  the  canoe 
and  were  soon  on  their  way  down  the 
river.     Reaching  the  landing,    the  artist 


1    iili! 


1        111 


^ 


:    H' 


I- I- 


;il 


m\ 


liiilHii 


1 08 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP, 


gave  his  hand  to  Miss  Sommerton  and 
aided  her  out  on  the  bank. 

"  Miss  Sommerton,"  he  whispered  to 
her,  "  I  intended  to  sail  to-morrow.  I 
shall  leave  it  for  you  to  say  whether  I 
shall  go  or  not," 

"You  will  not  sail,"  said  Miss  Sommer- 
ton promptly. 

"  Oh,  thank  you,**  cried  the  artist  ; 
"  you  do  not  know  how  happy  that  makes 
me." 

"  Why  should  it  ?  " 

"Well,  you  know  what  I  infer  from 
your  answer."  • 

"  My  dear  sir,  I  said  that  you  would 
not  sail,  and  you  will  not,  for  this  reason  : 
To  sail  you  require  to  catch  to-night's 
train  for  Montreal,  and  take  the  train 
from  there  to  New  York  to  get  your  boat. 
You  cannot  catch  to-night's  train,  and, 
therefore,  cannot  get  to  your  steamer.  I 
never  before  saw  a  man  so  glad  to  miss 
his  train  or  his  boat.  Good-night,  Mr. 
Trenton.  Good-night,  Mr.  Mason,"  she 
cried  aloud  to  that  gentleman,  as  she  dis- 
appeared toward  the  house. 

"  You  two  appear  to  be  quite  friendly," 
said  Mr.  Mason  to  the  artist. 


II  i 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


109 


**  Do  we  ?  Appearances  are  deceitful. 
I  really  cannot  tell  at  this  moment 
whether  we  are  friends  or  enemies." 

"Well,  not  enemies,  I  am  sure.  Miss 
Eva  is  a  very  nice  girl  when  you  under- 
stand her." 

"  Do  you  understand  her  ? "  asked  the 
artist. 

"I  can't  say  that  I  do.  Come  to  think 
of  it,  I  don't  think  anybody  does." 

"  In  that  case,  then,  for  all  practical 
purposes,  she  might  just  as  well  not  be  a 
nice  girl." 

"  Ah,  well,  you  may  change  your  opin- 
ion some  day — when  you  get  better  ac- 
quainted with  her,"  said  Mason,  shaking 
hands  with  his  friend.  "  And  now  that 
you  have  missed  your  train,  anyhow,  I 
don't  suppose  you  care  for  a  very  early 
start  to-morrow.     Good-night." 


iiy.' 


CHAPTER  VII. 


'  iiiiii 


*i 


! 


i!!k 


After  Trenton  awoke  next  morning 
he  thought  the  situation  over  very  calmly, 
and  resolved  to  have  question  number 
three  answered  that  day  if  possible. 

When  called  to  breakfast  he  found  Ed. 
Mason  at  the  head  of  the  table. 

"  Shan't  we  wait  for  the  ladies  ?  "  asked 
the  artist. 

"  I  don't  think  we'd  better.  You  see, 
we  might  have  to  wait  quite  a  long  time. 
I  don't  know  when  Miss  Sommerton  will 
be  here  again,  and  it  will  be  a  week  at 
least  before  Mrs.  Mason  comes  back. 
They  are  more  than  half-way  to  Three 
Rivers  by  this  time." 

"  Good  gracious  !  "  cried  Trenton, 
abashed  ;  "  why  didn't  you  call  me  ?  I 
should  have  liked  very  much  to  have  ac- 
companied them." 

"  Oh,  they  wouldn't  hear  of  your  being 
disturbed  ;  and  besides,  Mr.  Trenton, 
our  American  ladies  are  quite  in  the  habit 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


Ill 


of  looking  after  themselves.  I  found 
that  out  long  ago." 

"  I  suppose  there  is  nothing  for  it  but 
get  out  my  buckboard  and  get  back  to 
Three  Rivers." 

**  Oh,  I  dismissed  your  driver  long  ago," 
said  the  lumberman.  "  I'll  take  you  there 
in  my  buggy.  I  am  going  out  to  Three 
Rivers  to-day  anyhow." 

"  No  chance  of  overtaking  the  ladies  ?  " 
asked  Trenton. 

**  I  don't  think  so.  We  may  overtake 
Mrs.  Mason  but  I  imagine  Miss  Sommer- 
ton  will  be  either  at  Quebec  or  Montreal 
before  we  reach  Three  Rivers.  I  don't 
know  in  which  direction  she  is  going. 
You  seem  to  be  somewhat  interested  in 
that  young  lady.  Purelv  artistic  admira- 
tion, I  presume.  She  is  rather  a  striking 
girl.  Well,  you  certainly  have  made  the 
most  of  your  opportunities.  Let's  see,  you 
have  known  her  now  for  quite  a  long  while. 
Must  be  nearly  twenty-four  hours." 

"  Oh,  don't  underestimate  it.  Mason  ; 
quite  thirty-six  h     rs  at  least." 

"  So  long  as  that  ?  Ah,  well,  I  don't 
wish  to  discourage  you  ;  but  I  wouldn't 
be  too  sure  of  her  if  I  were  you." 


"ff"^" 


112 


tt 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


;!) 


wM  i 

iilr^: 

fflpi 

ii,  ■■■'  ■ 

ii 

Ml 

bit 

^  1 

|H;j 

p 

!    1 
1      • 

!         : 

i  '  i 

1        1 

1 

f    s 

1^! 


s 

■1 

f.,       ■! 

1 

\ 

( 

I      1 

\ 

i 
1 

' 

L 

1 
1 

1 

i 

4 

. 

"  Sure  of  her  !  Why,  I  am  not  sure  of 
anything." 

"  Well,  that  is  the  proper  spirit.  You 
Englishmen  are  rather  apt  to  take  things 
for  granted.  I  think  you  would  make  a 
mistake  in  this  case  if  you  were  too  sure. 
You  are  not  the  only  man  who  has  tried 
to  awaken  the  interest  of  Miss  Sommer- 
ton  of  Boston." 

"  I  didn't  suppose  that  I  was.  Never- 
theless, I  am  going  to  Boston." 

"  Well,  it's  a  nice  town,"  said  Mason, 
with  a  noncommittal  air.  "  It  hasn't 
the  advantages  of  Three  Rivers,  of 
course  ;  but  still  it  is  a  very  attractive 
place  in  some  respects." 

"  In  some  respects,  yes,"  said  the  artist. 

^H  ^P  ^P  ^v^  ^^  ^^ 

Two  days  later  Mr.  John  Trenton  called 
at  the  house  on  Beacon  Street. 

"  Miss  Sommerton  is  not  at  horn?," 
said  the  servant.  "  She  is  in  Canada 
somewhere." 

And  so  Mr.  Trenton  went  back  to  his 
hotel. 

The  artist  resolved  to  live  quietly  in 
Boston  until  Miss  Sommerton  returned. 
Tnen  the  fateful  number  three  could  be 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


113 


lo  his 

ly  in 
•ned. 
Id  be 


answered.  He  determined  not  to  pre- 
sent any  of  his  letters  of  introduction. 
When  he  came  to  Boston  first,  he  thought 
he  would  like  to  see  something  of  society, 
of  the  art  world  in  that  city,  if  there  was 
an  art  world,  and  ot  e  people  ;  but  he 
had  come  and  gone  without  being  invited 
anywriere,  and  now  he  anticipated  no 
trouble  in  living  a  quiet  life,  and  think- 
ing occasionally  over  the  situation.  But 
during  his  absence  it  appeared  Boston 
had  awakened  to  the  fact  that  in  its 
midst  had  resided  a  real  live  artist  of 
prominence  from  the  other  side,  and 
nothing  had  been  done  to  overcome  his 
prejudices,  and  show  him  that,  after  all, 
the  real  intellectual  centre  of  the  world 
was,  not  London,  but  the  capital  of  Mass- 
achusetts. 

The  first  day  he  spent  in  his  hotel  he 
was  called  upon  by  a  young  gentleman 
whose  card  proclaimed  him  a  reporter  on 
one  of  the  large  daily  papers. 

"  You  are  Mr.  Trenton,  the  celebrated 
English  artist,  are  you  not  ?  " 

"  My  name  is  Trenton,  and  by  profes- 
sion I  am  an  artist.  But  I  do  not  claim 
the  adjective,  'celebrated.'" 


i'lffi'' 


!*? 


114 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


liilli! 


m 


"All  right.  You  are  the  man  I  am 
after.  Now,  I  should  like  to  know  what 
you  think  of  the  art  movement  in  Amer- 
ica ?  " 

"  Well,  really,  I  have  been  in  America 
but  a  very  short  time,  and  during  that 
time  I  have  had  no  opportunity  of  see- 
ing the  work  of  your  artists  or  of  visiting 
any  collections,  so  you  see  I  cannot  give 
an  opinion." 

"  Met  any  of  our  American  artists  ?  " 

"  I  have  in  Europe,  yes.  Quite  a  num- 
ber of  them,  and  very  talented  gentle- 
men some  of  them  are,  too." 

"  I  suppose  Europe  lays  over  this 
country  in  the  matter  of  art,  don't  it?" 

"  I  beg  your  pardon." 

"  Knocks  the  spots  out  of  us  in  pic- 
tures ? " 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  quite  follow  you. 
Do  you  mean  that  we  produce  pictures 
more  rapidly  than  you  do  here  ?  " 

"  No,  I  just  mean  the  whole  tout  efisem- 
ble  of  the  thing.  They  are  'way  ahead  of 
us,  are  they  not,  in  art  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  see,  as  I  said  before — really, 
I  am  not  in  a  position  to  make  any  com- 
parison, because  I  am  entirely  ignorant  of 


ONE  D/iY'S  COURTSHIP. 


"5 


American  painting.  It  seems  to  me  that 
certain  branches  of  art  ought  to  flourish 
here.  There  is  no  country  in  the  world 
with  grander  scenery  than  America." 

"  Been  out  to  the  Roclcies?" 

"  Where  is  that  ?  " 

"  To  the  Rocky  Mountains  ?" 

"  Oh  no,  no.  You  see  I  have  been 
only  a  few  weeks  in  this  country.  I  have 
confined  my  attention  to  Canada  mainly, 
the  Quebec  region  and  around  there,  al- 
though I  have  'been  among  the  White 
Mountains,  and  the  Catskills,  and  the 
Adirondacks." 

"  What  school  of  art  do  you  belong 
to?" 

"School?  Well,  I  don't  know  that  I 
belong  to  any.  May  I  ask  if  you  are  a 
connoisseur  in  art  matters.  Are  you  the 
art  critic  of  your  journal  ?  " 

"  Me  ?  No — oh  no.  I  don't  know  the 
first  darn  thing  about  it.  That's  why 
they  sent  me." 

"Well,  I  should  have  thought,  if  he 
wished  to  get  anything  worth  publishing, 
your  editor  would  have  sent  somebody 
who  was  at  least  familiar  with  the  subject 
he  has  to  write  about." 


1  MP 


ii6 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


ill 


I       '  Pill 


if 


:  I 


"  I  dare  say  ;  but,  that  ain't  the  way  to 
get  snappy  articles  written.  You  take  an 
art  man,  now,  for  instance  ;  he's  preju- 
diced. He  thinlcs  one  school  is  all  right, 
and  another  school  isn't  ;  and  he  is  apt 
to  work  in  his  own  fads.  Now,  if  our  man 
liked  the  French  school,  and  despised  the 
English  school,  or  the  German  school, 
if  there  is  one,  or  the  Italian  school, 
whatever  it  happened  to  be,  and  you  went 
against  that  ;  why,  don't  you  see,  he  would 
think  you  didn't  know  anything,  and 
write  you  up  that  way.  Now,  I  am  per- 
fectly unprejudiced.  I  want  to  write  a 
good  readable  article,  and  I  don't  care  a 
hang  which  school  is  the  best  or  the 
worst,  or  anything  else  about  it." 

"  Ah  !  I  see.  Well,  in  that  case,  you  cer- 
tainly approach  your  work  without  bias." 

"  You  bet  I  do.  Now,  who  do  you 
think  is  the  best  painter  in  England  ?  " 

"In  what  line?" 

"  Well,  in  any  line.  Who  stands  ahead  } 
Who's  the  leader  ?  Who  tops  them  all  ? 
Who's  the  Raphael  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  that  we  have  any  Raph- 
ael ?  We  have  good  painters  each  in  his 
own  branch." 


r:-( 


1 1 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


1^7 


cer- 


"  Isn't  there  one,  in  your  opinion,  that 
is  'way  ahead  of  all  the  rest?" 

"  W^ell,  you  see,  to  make  an  intelligent 
comparison,  you  have  to  take  into  consid- 
eration the  specialty  of  the  painter. 
You  could  hardly  compare  Alma  Tadema, 
for  instance,  with  Sir  John  Millais,  or  Sir 
Frederic  Leighton  with  Hubert  Her- 
komer,  or  any  of  them  with  some  of  your 
own  painters.  Each  has  his  specialty, 
and  each  stands  at  the  head  of  it." 

"Then  there  is  no  one  man  in  England 
like  Old  Man  Rubens,  or  Van  Dyke,  or 
those  other  fellows,  I  forget  their  names, 
who  are  head  and  shoulders  above  every- 
body else  ?  Sort  of  Jay  Gould  in  art,  you 
know." 

"  No,  I  wouldn't  like  to  say  there  is. 
In  fact,  all  of  your  questions  require  some 
consideration.  Now,  if  you  will  write 
them  down  for  me,  and  give  me  time  to 
think  them  over,  I  will  write  out  such  an- 
swers as  occur  tome.  It  would  be  impos- 
sible for  me  to  do  justice  to  myself,  or  to 
art,  or  to  your  paper,  by  attempting  to  an- 
swer questions  off-hand  in  this  way." 

"Oh,  that's  too  slow  for  our  time  here. 
You  know  this  thing  comes  out  to-morrow 


r. 


ii8 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


f 


ii 


1 ' 


iir 


!f 


morning,  and  I  have  got  to  do  a  column 
and  a  half  of  it.  Sometimes,  you  know, 
it  is  very  difficult  ;  but  you  are  different 
from  most  Englishmen  I  have  talked 
with.  You  speak  right  out,  and  you  talk 
to  a  fellow.  I  can  make  a  column  and  a 
half  out  of  what  you  have  said  now." 

"  Dear  me  !  Can  you  really  ?  Well, 
now,  I  should  be  careful,  if  I  were  you.  I 
am  afraid  that,  if  you  don't  understand 
anything  about  art,  you  may  give  the 
public  some  very  erroneous  impressions." 

"  Oh,  the  public  don't  care  a  hang.  All 
they  want  is  to  read  something  snappy 
and  bright.  That's  what  the  public  want. 
No,  sir,  we  have  catered  too  long  for  the 
public  not  to  know  what  its  size  is.  You 
might  print  the  most  learned  article  you 
could  get  hold  of,  it  might  be  written  by 
What's-his-name  De  Vinci,  and  be  full  of 
art  slang,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  but  it 
wouldn't  touch  the  general  public  at  all." 

"  I  don't  suppose  it  would." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  our  Sunday 
papers  here  ?  You  don't  have  any  Sun- 
day papers  over  in  London." 

"  Oh  yes,  we  do.  But  none  of  the  big 
dailies  have  Sunday  editions." 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


119 


.     I 

land 

the 

♦» 
)ns. 

All 

appy 
;vant. 

r  the 

You 
you 

n  by 
11  of 
ut  it 
all." 

[nday 
Sun- 

le  big 


"  They  are  not  as  big,  or  as  enterpris- 
ing as  ours,  are  they  ?  One  Sunday  pa- 
per, you  know,  prints  about  as  much  as 
two  or  three  thirty-five  cent  magazines." 

"  What,  the  Sunday  paper  does  ? " 

"  Yes,  the  Sunday  paper  prints  it,  but 
doesn't  sell  for  that.  We  give  'em  more 
for  the  money  than  any  magazine  you 
ever  saw." 

"  You  certainly  print  some  very  large 
papers." 

With  this  the  reporter  took  his  leave, 
and  next  morning  Mr.  Trenton  saw  the 
most  astonishing  account  of  his  ideas  on 
art  matters  imaginable.  What  struck  him 
most  forcibly  was,  that  an  article  written 
by  a  person  who  admittedly  knew  nothing 
at  all  about  art  should  be  in  general  so  free 
from  error.  The  interview  had  a  great 
number  of  head  lines,  and  it  was  evident 
the  paper  desired  to  treat  the  artist  with 
the  utmost  respect,  and  that  it  felt  he 
showed  his  sense  in  preferring  Boston  to 
New  York  as  a  place  of  temporary  resi- 
dence ;  but  what  appalled  him  was  the 
free  and  easy  criticisms  he  was  credited 
with  having  made  on  his  own  contempo- 
raries in  England,     The  principal  points 


m 


I20 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


! 


f<i 


of  each  were  summed  up  with  a  great 
deal  of  terseness  and  force,  and  in  many 
cases  were  laughably  true  to  life.  It  was 
evident  that  whoever  touched  up  that  in- 
terview possessed  a  very  clear  opinion  and 
very  accurate  knowledge  of  the  art  move- 
ment in  England. 

Mr.  Trenton  thought  he  would  sit  down 
and  write  to  the  editor  of  the  paper,  cor- 
recting some  of  the  more  glaring  inu  ur- 
acies  ;  but  a  friend  said — 

"  Oh,  it  is  no  use.  Never  mind.  No- 
body pays  any  attention  to  that.  It's  all 
right  anyhow." 

"  Yes,  but  suppose  the  article  should 
be  copied  in  England,  or  suppose  some  of 
the  papers  should  get  over  there  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that'll  be  all  right,"  said  his  friend, 
with  easy  optimism.  "  Don't  bother 
about  it.  They  all  know  what  a  news- 
paper interview  is  ;  if  they  don't,  why, 
you  can  tell  them  when  you  get  back." 

It  was  not  long  before  Mr.  Trenton 
found  himself  put  down  at  all  the  princi- 
pal clubs,  both  artistic  and  literary  ;  and 
he  also  became,  with  a  suddenness  that 
bewildered  him,  quite  the  social  lion  for 
the  time  being. 


■■■^h 


ONE  D/iY'S  COURTSHIP, 


121 


ther 
tws- 

My 


He  was  astonished  to  find  that  the  re- 
ceptions to  which  he  was  invited,  and 
where  he  was,  in  a  way,  on  exhibition,  were 
really  very  grand  occasions,  and  com- 
pared favourably  with  the  finest  gather- 
ings he  had  had  experience  of  in  London. 

His  hostess  at  one  of  these  receptions 
said  to  him,  "  Mr.  Trenton,  I  want  to  in- 
troduce yoa  to  some  of  our  art  lovers  in 
this  city,  whom  I  am  sure  you  will  be 
pleased  to  meet.  I  know  that  as  a  gen- 
eral thing  the  real  artists  are  apt  to  despise 
the  amateurs  ;  but  in  this  instance  I  hope 
you  will  be  kind  enough  not  to  despise 
them,  for  my  sake.  We  think  they  are 
really  very  clever  indeed,  and  we  like  to 
be  flattered  by  foreign  preference." 

"Am  I  the  foreign  perference  in  this 
instance?" 

"  You  are,  Mr.  Trenton." 

"  Now,  I  think  it  is  too  bad  of  you  to 
say  that,  just  when  I  have  begun  to  feel 
as  much  at  home  in  Boston  as  I  do  in 
London.  I  assure  you  I  do  not  feel  in 
the  least  foreign  here.  Neither  do  I 
maintain,  like  Mrs.  Brown,  that  you  are 
the  foreigners." 

"  How  very  nice  of  you  to  say  so,  Mr, 


,  <  '' 


■     I 


I 


i      I 

to 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 

Trenton.  Now  I  hope  you  will  say  some- 
thing like  that  to  the  young  lady  I  want 
you  to  meet.  She  is  really  very  charm- 
ing, and  I  am  sure  you  will  like  her  ;  and 
I  may  say,  in  parenthesis,  that  she,  like 
the  rest  of  us,  is  perfectly  infatuated 
with  your  pictures." 

As  the  lady  said  this,  she  brought  Mr. 
Trenton  in  her  wake,  as  it  were,  and  said, 
"  Miss  Sommerton,  allow  me  to  present 
to  you  Mr.  Trenton." 

Miss  Sommerton  rose  with  graceful  in- 
dolence, and  held  out  her  hand  frankly 
to  the  artist.  "  Mr.  Trenton,"  she  said, 
''  I  am  very  pleased  indeed  to  meet  you. 
Have  you  been  long  in  Boston  ? " 

"Only  a  few  days,"  replied  Trenton, 
**  I  came  up  to  Boston  from  Canada  a 
short  time  since." 

"  Up  ?  You  mean  down.  We  don't  say 
up  from  Canada." 

"Oh,  don't  you?  Well,  in  England, 
you  know,  we  say  up  to  London,  no  mat- 
ter from  what  part  of  the  country  we 
approach  it.  I  think  you  are  wrong  in 
saying  down,  I  think  it  really  ought  to  be 
up  to  Boston  from  wherever  you  come." 

His  hostess  appeared  to  be  delighted 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


123 


ne- 
ant 

rm- 
and 
like 
ited 

Mr. 

said, 
jsent 

y\  in- 
ankly 
;  said, 
t  you. 

;nton. 
ada  a 

I't  say 

gland, 
3  mat- 
ry  we 
3ng  in 
to  be 
)me. 


iigi 


with  this  bit  of  conversation,  and  she 
said,  "  I  shall  leave  you  two  together  for 
a  few  moments  to  get  acquainted.  Mr. 
Trenton,  you  know  you  are  in  demand 
this  evening." 

"Do  you  think  that  is  true?"  said 
Trenton  to  Miss  Sommerton 

"  What  ? " 

"  Well,  that  I  am  in  demand." 

"  I  suppose  it  is  true,  if  Mrs.  Lennox 
says  it  is.  You  surely  don't  intend  to 
cast  any  doubt  on  the  word  of  your  host- 
ess, do  you  ? " 

"  Oh,  not  at  all.  I  didn't  mean  in  a  gen- 
eral way,  you  know,  I  meant  in  particular." 

"  I  don't  think  I  understand  you,  Mr. 
Trenton.  By  the  way,  you  said  you  had 
been  in  Canada.  Do  you  not  think  it  is 
a  very  charming  country  ?" 

"  Charming,  Miss  Sommerton,  isn't  the 
word  for  it.  It  is  the  most  delightful  coun- 
try in  the  world." 

"  Ah,  you  say  that  because  it  belongs  to 
England.  I  admit  it  is  very  delightful ; 
but  then  there  are  other  places  on  the 
Continent  quite  as  beautiful  as  any  part 
of  Canada.  You  seem  to  have  a  prejudice 
in  favour  of  monarchical  institutions." 


124 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


I   I 


ft  I 


M 


I 


*'  Oh,  is  Canada  monarchical  ?  I  didn't 
know  that.  I  thought  Canada  was  quite 
republican  in  its  form  of  government." 

"  Well,  it  is  a  dependency ;  that's 
what  I  despise  about  Canada.  Think  of 
a  glorious  country  like  that,  with  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  square  miles,  in 
fact,  millions,  I  think,  being  dependent 
on  I  little  island,  away  there  among  the 
fogs  and  rains,  between  the  North  Sea 
and  the  Atlantic  Ocean.  To  be  a  depend- 
ency of  some  splendid  tyrannical  power 
like  Russia  wouldn't  be  so  bad  ;  but  to 
be  dependent  on  that  little  island — I  lose 
all  my  respect  for  Canada  when  I  think 
of  it." 

''  Well,  you  know,  the  United  States 
were  colonies  once." 

"  Ah,  that  is  a  very  unfortunate  compar- 
ison, Mr.  Trenton.  The  moment  the 
colonies,  as  you  call  them,  came  to  years 
of  discretion,  they  soon  shook  off  their 
dependency.  You  must  remember  you 
are  a*^  Boston,  and  that  the  harbour  is 
only  a  short  distance  from  here." 

"  Does  that  mean  that  I  should  take 
advantage  of  its  proximity  and  leave  ?  " 

**  Oh,  not  at  all.     I  could  not  say  any- 


n't 
lite 

at's 
cof 
lun- 

,  ill 
lent 

the 

Sea 
end- 
ovver 
at  to 

lose 
think 

tates 

npar- 
the 
years 
their 
you 
|)ur  is 


take 

e? 
any- 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


125 


thing  so  rude,  Mr.  Trenton.  Perhaps  you 
are  not  familiar  with  the  history  of  our 
trouble  with  England  ?  Don't  you  re- 
member it  commenced  in  Boston  Har- 
bour practically  ?" 

"Oh  yes,  I  recollect  now.  I  had  for- 
got en  it.  Something  about  tea,  was  it 
not.-*" 

"Yes,  something  about  tea." 

"Well,  talking  of  tea.  Miss  Sommerton, 
may  I  take  you  to  the  conservatory  and 
bring  you  a  cup  of  it  ? " 

"  May  I  have  an  ice  instead  of  the  tea, 
if  I  prefer  it,  Mr.  Trenton  ?" 

"Why,  certainly.  You  see  how  I  am 
already  dropping  into  the  American 
phraseology." 

"Oh,  1  think  you  are  improving  won- 
derfully, Mr.  Trenton." 

When  they  reached  the  conservatory. 
Miss  Sommerton  said — 

"  This  is  really  a  very  great  breach  of 
good  manners  on  both  your  part  and  mine. 
I  have  taken  away  the  lion  of  the  evening, 
and  the  lion  has  forgotten  his  duty  to  his 
hostess  and  to  the  other  guests." 

"  Well,  you  ,  ee,  I  wanted  to  learn  more 
of  your  ideas  in   the  matter  of  depend- 


:«ii 


126 


OhlE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


I  '  I '  .(I 


r  --i 


encies.  I  don't  at  all  agree  with  you  on 
that.  Now,  I  think  if  a  country  is  con- 
quered, it  ought  to  be  a  dependency  of 
the  conquering  people.  It  is  the  right  of 
conquest.  I — I  am  a  thorough  believer 
in  the  right  of  conquest." 

"  You  seem  to  have  very  settled  opin- 
ions on  the  matter,  Mr.  Trenton." 

"  I  have  indeed,  Miss  Sommerton.  It 
is  said  that  an  Englishman  never  knows 
when  he  is  conquered.  Now  I  think 
that  is  a  great  mistake.  There  is  no  one 
so  quick  as  an  Englishman  to  admit  that 
he  has  met  his  match." 

"  Why,  have  you  met  your  match  al- 
ready, Mr.  Trenton  ?  Let  me  congratu- 
late you." 

*'  Well,  don't  congratulate  me  just  yet. 
I  am  not  at  all  certain  whether  I  shall 
need  any  congratulations  or  not." 

"  I  am  sure  I  hope  you  will  be  very 
successful." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  ?  " 

Miss  Sommerton  looked  at  him  quietly 
for  a  moment. 

**  Do  you  think,"  she  said,  "  I  am  in  the 
habit  of  saying  things  I  do  not  mean  ?" 

"  I  think  you  are." 


'ii 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


127 


"Well,  you  are  not  a  bit  more  compli- 
mentary than — than — you  used  to  be." 

"  You  were  going  to  say  than  I  was  on 
the  banks  of  the  St.  Maurice  ?  " 

"  Ohj  you  visited  the  St.  Maurice,  did 
you  ?  How  far  away  from  Boston  that 
seems,  doesn't  it  ? " 

"  It  is  indeed  a  great  distance,  Miss 
Sommerton.  But  apparently  not  half  as 
long  as  the  round-about  way  we  are  trav- 
eling just  now.  Miss  Sommerton,  I 
waited  and  waited  in  Boston  for  you  to 
return.  I  want  to  be  a  dependence.  I 
admit  the  conquest.  I  wish  to  swear 
fealty  to  Miss  Eva  Sommerton  of  Boston, 
and  now  I  ask  my  third  question,  will 
you  accept  the  allegiance  ? " 

Miss  Sommerton  was  a  little  slow  in 
replying,  and  before  she  had  spoken  Mrs. 
Lennox  bustled  in,  and  said — 

"Oh,  Mr.  Trenton,  I  have  been  look- 
ing everywhere  for  you.  There  are  a 
hundred  people  here  who  wish  to  be  in- 
troduced, and  all  at  once.  May  I  have 
him.  Miss  Sommerton  ?  " 

"  Well,  Mrs.  Lennox,  you  know,  if  I 
said  *  Yes,'  that  would  imply  a  certain 
ownership  in  him." 


-I   ¥ 


128 


ONE  DAY'S  COURTSHIP. 


"  I  brought  Miss  Sommerton  here  to 
get  her  to  accept  an  ice  from  me,  which 
as  yet  I  have  not  had  the  privilege  of 
bringing.  Will  you  accept — the  ice, 
Miss  Sommerton  ? " 

The  young  lady  blushed,  as  she  looked 
at  the  artist. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  with  a  sigh  ;  the  tone 
was  almost  inaudible. 

The  artist  hurried  away  to  bring  the 
refreshment. 

"  Why,  Eva  Sommerton,"  cried  Mrs. 
Lennox,  "you  accept  a  plate  of  ice  cream 
as  tragically  as  if  you  were  giving  the 
answer  to  a  proposal." 

Mrs.  Lennox  said  afterward  that  she 
thought  there  was  something  very  peculiar 
about  Miss  Sommerton's  smile  in  reply  to 
her  remark. 


I' ' 


m 


ii 


The  Heralds  of  Fame. 


CHAPTER  I. 


Now,  when  each  man's  place  in  litera- 
ture is  so  clearly  defined,  it  seems  ridic- 
ulous to  state  that  there  was  a  time  when 
Kenan  Buel  thought  J.  Lawless  Hodden 
a  great  novelist.  One  would  have  im- 
agined that  Buel's  keen  insight  into  hu- 
man nature  would  have  made  such  .. 
mistake  impossible;  but  it  rtiust  be  re- 
membered that  Buel  was  always  more  or 
less  of  a  hero-worshipper.  It  seems 
strange  in  the  light  of  our  after-knowl- 
edge that  there  ever  was  a  day  when  Hod- 
den's books  were  selling  by  the  thou- 
sand, and  Buel  was  tramping  the  streets 
of  London  fruitlessly  searching  for  a  pub- 
lisher. Not  less  strange  is  the  fact  that 
Buel  thought   Hodden's  success   well  de- 


V,  •■tl; 


130 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


I'  J 


! 


4 


^  ! 


sf'T 


I.  II 


served.     He   would   have  felt   honoured 
by  the  touch  of  Hodden's  hand. 

No  convict  ever  climbed  a  treadmill 
with  more  hopeless  despair  than  Buel 
worked  in  his  little  room  under  the  lofty 
roof.  He  knew  no  one  ;  there  were  none 
to  speak  to  him  a  cheering  or  comfort- 
ing word  ;  he  was  ignorant  even  of  the 
names  of  the  men  who  accepted  the  ar- 
ticles from  his  pen,  which  appeared  un- 
signed in  the  daily  papers  and  in  some  of 
the  weeklies.  He  got  cheques — small 
ones — with  illegible  and  impersonal  sig- 
natures that  told  him  nothing.  But  the 
bits  of  paper  were  honoured  at  the  bank, 
and  this  lucky  fact  enabled  him  to  live 
and  write  books  which  publishers  would 
not  look  at. 

Nevertheless,  showing  how  all  things 
are  possible  to  a  desperate  and  resolute 
man,  two  of  his  books  had  already  seen 
the  light,  if  it  could  be  called  light.  The 
first  he  was  still  paying  for,  on  the  instal- 
ment plan.  The  publishers  were  to  pay 
half,  and  he  was  to  pay  half.  This 
seemed  to  him  only  a  fair  division  of  the 
risk  at  the  time.  Not  a  single  paper  had 
paid  the  slightest  attention  to  the  book. 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


131 


The  universal  ignoring  of  it  dislieartened 
him.  He  had  been  prepared  for  abuse, 
but  not  for  impenetrable  silence. 

He  succeeded  in  getting  another  and 
more  respectable  publisher  to  take  up  his 
next  book  on  a  royalty  arrangement. 
This  was  a  surprise  to  him,  and  a  gratifi- 
cation. His  satisfaction  did  not  last  long 
after  the  book  came  out.  It  was  merci- 
lessly slated.  One  paper  advised  him  to 
read  "  Hodden  ;  "  another  said  he  had 
plagiarized  from  that  popular  writer. 
The  criticisms  cut  him  like  a  whip.  He 
wondered  why  he  had  rebelled  at  the 
previous  silence.  He  felt  like  a  man 
who  had  heedlessly  hurled  a  stone  at  a 
snow  mountain  and  had  been  buried  by 
the  resulting  avalanche. 

He  got  his  third  publisher  a  year  after 
that.  He  thought  he  would  never  suc- 
ceed in  getting  the  same  firm  twice,  and 
wondered  what  would  happen  when  he 
exhausted  the  London  list.  It  is  not  right 
that  a  man  should  go  on  for  ever  without 
a  word  of  encouragement.  Fate  recog- 
nised that  there  would  come  a  breaking- 
point,  and  relented  in  time.  The  word 
came  from  an    unexpected   ^  )urce.     P>iiel 


S"  !    vi: 


H> 


Ill 

m 

!  I,  f  lll^  I 


in 


\  11 


■: 


^. 


t  f 


132 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


was  labouring,  heavy-eyed,  at  the  last 
proof-sheets  of  his  third  book,  and  was 
wondering  whether  he  would  have  the 
courage  not  to  look  at  the  newspapers 
when  the  volume  was  published.  He 
wished  he  could  afford  to  go  to  some 
wilderness  until  the  worst  was  over. 
He  knew  he  could  not  miss  the  first  no- 
tice, for  experience  had  taught  him  that 
Snippit  &  Co.,  a  clipping  agency,  would 
send  it  to  him,  with  a  nice  type-written 
letter,  saying — 

"Dear  Sir, 

"  As  your  book  is  certain  to  at- 
tract a  great  deal  of  attention  from  the 
Press,  we  shall  be  pleased  to  send  you 
clippings  similar  to  the  enclosed  at  the 
following  rates." 

It  struck  him  as  rather  funny  that  any 
company  should  expect  a  sane  man  to 
pay  so  much  good  money  for  Press 
notices,  mostly  abusive.  He  never  sub- 
scribed. 

The  word  of  encouragement  gave  no- 
tice of  its  approach  in  a  letter,  signed  by 
a  man  of  whom  he  had  never  heard.     It 


!   1 


«• 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


^2>Z 


was  forwarded  to  him  by  his  publishers. 
The  letter  ran  : — 

"  Dear  Sir, 

"  Can  you  make  it  convenient  to 
lunch  with  me  on  Friday  at  the  Metro- 
pole  ?  If  you  have  an  engagement  for 
that  day  can  you  further  oblige  me  by 
writing  and  putting  it  off  ?  Tell  the  other 
fellow  you  are  ill  or  have  broken  your 
leg,  or  anything,  and  charge  up  the  fiction 
to  me.  I  deal  in  fiction,  anyhow,  I 
leave  on  Saturday  for  the  Continent,  not 
wishing  to  spend  another  Sunday  in  Lon- 
don if  I  can  avoid  it.  I  have  arranged 
to  get  out  your  book  in  America,  having 
read  the  proof-sheets  at  your  publisher's. 
All  the  business  part  of  the  transaction  is 
settled,  but  I  would  like  to  see  you  per- 
sonally if  you  don't  mind,  to  have  a  talk 
over  the  future — always  an  interesting 
subject. 

**  Yours  very  truly, 

"  L.  F.  Brant, 

"  Of  Rainham  Bros.,  Publishers,  New  York." 

Buel  read  this   letter    over   and  over 
again.     He   had     never     seen    anything 


Vi- 


m\ 


■■  il 


134 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


exactly  like  it.  There  was  a  genial  flip- 
pancy about  it  that  was  new  to  him, 
and  he  wondered  what  sort  of  a  man  the 
New  Yorker  was.  Mr.  Brant  wrote  to  a 
stranger  with  the  familiarity  of  an  old 
friend,  yet  the  letter  warmed  Buel's 
heart.  He  smiled  at  the  idea  the  Ameri- 
can evidently  had  about  a  previous  en- 
gagement. Invitations  to  lunch  become 
frequent  when  a  "man  does  not  need 
them.  No  broken  leg  story  would  have 
to  be  told.  He  wrote  and  accepted  Mr. 
Bran.t's  invitation. 

"You're  Mr  Buel,  I  think?" 

The  stranger's  hand  rested  lightly  on 
the  young  author's  shoulder.  Buel  had 
just  entered  the  unfamiliar  precincts  of  the 
Metropole  Hotel.  The  tall  man  with  the 
gold  lace  on  his  hat  had  hesitated  a  mo- 
ment before  he  swung  open  the  big  door, 
Buel  was  so  evidently  not  a  guest  of  the 
hotel. 

"  My  name  is  Buel." 

"  Then   you're   my  victim, 
waiting  impatiently  for  you. 
Brant." 

"  I  thought  I  was  in  time, 
to  have  kept  you  waiting." 


I've  been 
I  am  L.  F. 

I  am  sorry 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


135 


"  Don't  mention  it.  I  liave  been  wait- 
ing but  thirty  seconds.  Come  up  in  the 
elevator.  They  call  it  a  lift  here,  not 
knowing  any  better,  but  it  gets  there  ulti- 
mately. I  have  the  title-deeds  to  a 
little  parlour  while  I  am  staying  in  this 
tavern,  and  I  thought  we  could  talk  bet- 
ter if  we  had  lunch  there.  Lunch  costs 
more  on  that  basis,  but  I  guess  we  can 
stand  it." 

A  cold  shudder  passed  over  the  thin 
frame  of  Kenan  Buel.  He  did  not  know 
but  it  was  the  custom  in  America  to  ask 
a  man  to  lunch  and  expect  him  to  pay 
half.  Brant's  use  of  the  plural  lent  colour 
to  this  view,  and  Buel  knew  he  could  not 
pay  his  share.  He  regretted  they  were 
not  in  a  vegetarian  restaurant. 

The  table  in  the  centre  of  the  room 
was  already  set  for  two,  and  the  array  of 
wine-glasses  around  each  plate  looked 
tempting.  Brant  pushed  the  electric  but- 
ton, drew  up  his  chair,  and  said — 

"  Sit  down,  Buel,  sit  down.  What's 
your  favourite  brand  of  wine  ?  Let's  set- 
tle on  it  now,  so  as  to  have  no  unseemly 
wrangle  when  the  waiter  comes.  I'm 
rather  in   awe  of  the   waiter.     It  doesn't 


Stt) 


m 

m 
1^ 


u 


hi 


p 


mm 


•  I:  ■   i  i| 


mm 


m  ■! 


rr- 


W 


i  I 


136 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


seem  natural  that  any  mere  human  man 
should  be  so  obviously  superior  to  the 
rest  of  us  mortals  as  this  waiter  is.  I'm 
going  to  give  you  only  the  choice  of  the 
first  wines.  I  have  taken  the  champagne 
for  granted,  and  it's  cooling  now  in  a 
tub  somewhere.  We  always  drink  cham- 
pagne in  the  States,  not  because  we  like 
it,  but  because  it's  expensive.  I  calcu- 
late that  I  pay  the  expenses  of  my  trip 
over  here  merely  by  ordering  unlimited 
champagne.  I  save  more  than  a  dollar  a 
bottle  on  New  York  prices,  and  these 
saved  dollars  count  up  in  a  month.  Per- 
sonally I  prefer  cider  or  lager  beer,  but 
in  New  York  we  dare  not  own  to  liking  a 
thing  unless  it  is  expensive." 

**  It  can  hardly  be  a  pleasant  place  for 
a  poor  man  to  live  in,  if  that  is  the  case." 

"  My  dear  Buel,  no  city  is  a  pleasant 
place  for  a  poor  man  to  live  in.  I  don't 
suppose  New  York  is  worse  than  London 
in  that  respect.  The  poor  have  a  hard 
time  of  it  anywhere.  A  man  owes  it  to 
himself  and  family  not  to  be  poor.  Nov, 
that's  one  thing  I  like  about  your  book  ; 
you  touch  on  poverty  in  a  sympathetic 
way,  by   George,   like  a  man   who    had 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


137 


the 
I'm 

the 
tgne 
in  a 
lam- 

like 
alcu- 
1  trip 
nited 
liar  a 
these 

Per- 
ir,  but 
dng  a 

ce  for 
case." 
asant 
don't 
ondon 
hard 
;  it  to 
Nov, 
book  ; 
ithetic 
o    had 


come  through  it  himself.  I've  been  there, 
and  I  know  how  it  is.  When  I  first 
struck  New  York  I  hadn't  even  a  ragged 
dollar  bill  to  my  back.  Of  course  every 
successful  man  will  tell  you  the  same  of 
himself,  but  it  is  mostly  brag,  and  in  half 
the  instances  it  isn't  true  at  all  ;  but  in 
my  case — well,  I  wasn't  subscribing  to 
the  heathen  in  those  days.  I  made  up 
my  mind  that  poverty  didn't  pay,  and  I 
have  succeeded  in  remedying  the  state  of 
affairs.  But  I  haven't  forgotten  how  it 
felt  to  be  hard  up,  and  I  sympathise  with 
those  who  are.  Nothing  would  afford  me 
greater  pleasure  than  to  give  a  helping 
hand  to  a  fellow — that  is,  to  a  clever 
fellow  who  was  worth  saving — who  is 
down  at  bed  rock.  Don't  you  feel  that 
way  too  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Buel,  with  some  hesitation, 
"  it  would  be  a  pleasure." 

'*  I  knew  when  I  read  your  book  you 
felt  that  way — I  was  sure  of  it.  Well, 
I've  helped  a  few  in  my  time  ;  but  I  re- 
gret to  say  most  of  them  turned  out  to  be 
no  good.  That  is  where  the  trouble  is. 
Those  who  are  really  deserving  are  just 
the   persons  who    die  of   starvation    in  a 


138 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


garret,  and  never  let  the  outside  world 
know  their  trouble." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  such  is  often  the 
case." 

"  Of  course  it  is.  It's  always  the  case. 
But  here's  the  soup.  1  hope  you  have 
brought  a  good  appetite.  You  can't  ex- 
pect such  a  meal  here  as  you  would  get 
in  New  York  ;  but  they  do  fairly  well.  I, 
for  one,  don't  grumble  about  the  food  in 
London,  as  most  Americans  do.  Lon- 
doners manage  to  keep  alive,  and  that, 
after  all,  is  the  main  thing." 

Buel  was  perfectly  satisfied  with  the 
meal,  and  thought  if  they  produced  a 
better  one  in  New  York,  or  anywhere 
else,  the  art  of  cookery  had  reached 
wonderful  perfection.  Brant,  however, 
kept  apologising  for  the  spread  as  he 
went  along.  The  talk  drifted  on  in  an 
apparently  aimless  fashion,  but  the  pub- 
lisher was  a  shrewd  man,  and  he  was 
gradually  leading  it  up  to  the  point  he 
had  in  view  from  the  beginning,  and  all 
the  while  \  e  was  taking  the  measure  of 
his  guest.  He  was  not  a  man  to  waste 
either  his  time  or  his  dinners  without  an 
object.     When   he  had   once  "  sized  up  " 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


139 


orkl 

the 

case, 
have 
't  ex- 
d  get 

11.     1, 
3od  in 
Lon- 
\  that, 

ith  the 

uced   a 

ywhere 

•cached 
wever, 
as   he 

[\  in  an 
le  pub- 

Ihe  was 

joint  he 
and  all 

lasure  of 

lo  waste 
Ihout  an 
Ized  up  " 


his  man,  as  he  termed  it,  he  was  either 
exceedingly  frank  and  open  with  him,  or 
the  exact  opposite,  as  suited  his  purpose. 
He  told  Buel  that  he  came  to  England 
once  a  year,  if  possible,  rapidly  scanned 
the  works  of  fiction  about  to  be  published 
by  the  various  houses  in  London,  and 
made  arrangements  for  the  producing  of 
those  in  America  that  he  thought  would 
go  down  with  the  American  people. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Buel,  *'  that  you  have 
met  many  of  the  noted  authors  of  this 
country  ? " 

"  All  of  them,  I  think  ;  all  of  them,  at 
one    time  or    another.     The    publishing 
business   has   its   drawbacks    like   every 
other  trade,"  replied  Brant,  jauntily. 
"  Have  you  met  Hodden  ?  " 
"  Several  times.     Conceited  ass  !  '* 
"  You  astonish  me.     I  have  never  had 
the  ""ood  fortune  to  become  acquainted 
with  any   of   our   celebrated   writers.     I 
would  think  it  a  privilege  to  know  Hod- 
den and  some  of  the  others." 

"  You're  lucky,  and  you  evidently  don't 
know  it.  I  would  rather  meet  a  duke 
any  day  than  a  famous  author.  The  duke 
puts  on  less  side  and  patronises  you  less." 


i 


140 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


(  f\ 


I   ! 


\M 


"  I  would  rather  be  a  celebrated  author 
than  a  duke  if  I  had  my  choice." 

"  Well,  being  a  free  and  independent 
citizen  of  the  Democratic  United  States, 
I  wouldn't.  No^  sir  !  I  would  rather  be 
^^uke  Brant  any  day  in  the  week  than  Mr. 
i3rant,  the  talented  author  of,  etc.,  etc. 
The  moment  an  author  receives  a  little 
praise  and  becomes  talked  about,  he  gets 
what  we  call  in  the  States  *  the  swelled 
head.'  I've  seen  some  of  the  nicest  fel- 
lows in  the  world  become  utterly  spoiled 
by  a  little  success.  And  then  think  of 
the  absurdity  of  it  all.  There  aren't 
more  than  two  or  three  at  the  most  of  the 
present-day  writers  who  will  be  heard  of 
a  century  hence.  Read  the  history  of 
literature,  and  you  will  find  that  never 
more  than  four  men  in  any  one  genera- 
tion are  heard  of  after.  Four  is  a  liberal 
allowance.  What  has  any  writer  to  be 
conceited  about  anyhow  ?  Let  him  read 
his  Shakespeare  and  be  modest." 

Buel  said  with  a  sigh,  **  I  wish  there 
was  success  in  store  for  me.  I  would  risk 
the  malady  you  call  the  *  swelled  head.' " 

"  Success  will  come  all  right  enough, 
my  boy.     '  All   things  come  to  him  who 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


141 


thor 

dent 
ates, 
er  be 
^  Mr. 
.,  etc. 
little 
e  gets 
welled 

St  fel- 
ipoiled 
ink   of 
aren't 
:  of  the 
card  of 
:ory   of 
never 
igenera- 
\\  liberal 
ff  to  be 
[im  read 

ih  there 
)uld  risk 
head.' " 
enough, 
lim  who 


waits,'  and  while  he  is  waiting  puts  in 
some  good,  strong  days  of  work.  It's 
the  working  that  tells,  not  the  waiting. 
And  now,  if  you  will  light  one  of  these 
cigars,  we  will  talk  of  you  for  a  while,  if 
your  modesty  will  stand  it.  What  kind 
of  Chartreuse  will  you  have  ?  Yellow  or 
green  ? " 

"  Either." 

"  Take  the  green,  then.  Where  the 
price  is  the  same  I  always  take  the  green. 
It  is  the  stronger,  and  you  get  more  for 
your  money.  Now  then,  I  will  be  per- 
fectly frank  with  you.  I  read  your  book 
in  the  proof-sheets,  and  T  ran  it  down  in 
great  style  to  your  publisher." 

"  I  am  sorry  you  did  not  like  it." 

"  I  don't  say  I  didn't  like  it.  I  ran  it 
down  because  it  was  business.  I  made 
up  my  mind  when  I  read  that  book  to 
give  a  hundred  pounds  for  the  American 
rights.     I  got  it  for  twenty." 

Brant  laughed,  and  Buel  felt  uncomfort- 
able. He  feared  that  after  all  he  did  not 
like  this  frank  American. 

"  Having  settled  about  the  book,  I 
wanted  to  see  you,  and  here  you  are. 
Of  course,  I  am  utterly  selfish  in  wanting 


n 


142 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


!       I 


to  see  you,  for  I  wish  you  to  promise  me 
that  we  will  have  the  right  of  publishing 
your  books  in  America  as  long  as  we  pay 
as  much  as  any  other  publisher.  There 
is  nothing  unfair  in  that,  is  there  ? " 

"  No.  I  may  warn  you,  however,  that 
there  has  been  no  great  competition,  so 
far,  for  the  privilege  of  doing  any  publish- 
ing, either  here  or  in  America." 

"  That's  al  right.  Unless  I'm  a  Dutch- 
man there  will  be,  after  your  new  book 
is  published.  Of  course,  that  is  one  of 
the  things  no  fellow  can  find  out.  If  he 
could,  publishing  would  be  less  of  a  lot- 
tery than  it  is.  A  book  is  sometimes  a 
success  by  the  merest  fluke  ;  at  other 
times,  in  spite  of  everything,  a  good  book 
is  a  deplorable  failure.  I  think  yours 
will  go  ;  anyhow,  I  am  willing  to  bet  on 
it  up  to  a  certain  amount,  and  if  it  does 
go,  I  want  to  have  the  first  look-in  at 
your  future  books.     What  do  you  say  ?  " 

"  Do  you  wish  me  to  sign  a  contract  ?  *' 

"No,  I  merely  want  your  word.  You 
may  write  me  a  letter  if  you  like,  that  I 
could  show  to  my  partners,  saying  that 
we  would  have  the  first  refusal  of  your 
future  books." 


THE  HER/fLDS  OF  FAME. 


143 


e  me 
ihlng 
2  pay 
fhere 

•,  that 
on,  so 
iblish- 

)utch- 
r  book 
one  of 

If  he 
E  a  lot- 
limes  a 

other 
id  book 
yours 

bet  on 

it  does 
ik-in  at 

say? 
[tract  ? '' 
1  You 
:,  that  I 
ng  that 
of  your 


"I  am  quite  willing  to  do  that." 

**  Very  good.  That's  settled.  Now, 
you  look  fagged  out.  I  wisli  you  would 
take  a  trip  over  to  New  York.  I'll  look 
after  you  when  you  get  there.  It  would 
do  you  a  world  of  good,  and  would  show 
in  the  pages  of  y(3ur  next  book.  What 
do  you  say  to  that  ?  Have  you  any 
engagements  that  would  prevent  you 
making  the  trip  ?" 

Buel  laughed,  ''  I  am  perfectly  free  as 
far  as  engagements  are  concerned." 

*'  That's  all  right,  then.  I  wish  I  were 
in  that  position.  Now,  as  I  said,  I  con- 
sidered your  book  cheap  at  ;£^ioo.  I  got 
it  for  jQ20.  I  propose  to  hand  over  the 
;^8o  to  you.  I'll  write  out  the  cheque  as 
soon  as  the  waiters  clear  away  the  ddbris. 
Then  your  letter  to  the  firm  would  form 
the  receipt  for  this  money,  and —  .ell,  it 
need  not  be  a  contract,  you  know,  or  any- 
thing formal,  but  just  your  ideas  on  any 
future  business  that  may  crop  up." 

"  I  must  say  I  think  your  offer  is  very 
generous." 

"  Oh,  not  at  all.  It  is  merely  business. 
The  j[fio  is  on  account  of  royalties.  If 
the  book  goes,  as  I  think  it  will,  I   hope 


144 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


!  I 


»i'l 


Yi     >! 


!  M 


to  pay  you  much  more  than  that.  Now  I 
hope  you  will  come  over  and  see  me  as 
soon  as  you  can." 

"  Yes.  As  you  say,  the  trip  will  do  me 
good.  I  have  been  rather  hard  at  it  for 
some  time." 

"  Then  I'll  look  out  for  you.  I  sail  on 
the  French  line  Saturday  week.  When 
will  you  come?" 

"As  soon  as  my  book  is  out  here,  and 
before  any  of  the  reviews  appear." 

"  Sensible  man.  What's  your  cable 
address  ? " 

"  I  haven't  one." 

"Well,  I  suppose  a  telegram  to  your 
publishers  will  find  you.  I'll  cable  if 
anything  turns  up  unexpectedly.  You 
send  me  over  a  despatch  saying  what 
steamer  you  sail  on.  My  address  is 
*  Rushing,  New  York.'  Just  cable  the 
name  of  the  steamer,  and  I  will  be  on  the 
look-out  fcr  you." 

It  was  doubtless  the  effect  of  the  cham- 
pagne, for  Buel  went  back  to  his  squalid 
room  with  his  mind  in  the  clouds.  He 
wondered  if  this  condition  was  the  first 
indication  of  the  swelled  head  Brant  had 
talked  about.     Buel  v;orked  harder  than 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


145 


vl 

as 

me 
for 

I  on 
rhen 

,  and 

cable 


,  your 

ble  \i 
You 
what 

tss    is 
e   the 
n  the 


ever  at  his  proofs,  and  there  was  some 
growling  at  head-quarters  because  of  the 
numerous  corrections  he  made.  These 
changes  were  regarded  as  impudence  on 
the  part  of  so  unknown  a  man.  He  sent 
off  to  America  a  set  of  the  corrected 
proofs,  and  received  a  cablegram,  "  Proofs 
received.  Too  late.  Book  published  to- 
day." 

This  was  a  disappointment.  Still  he 
had  the  consolatio'*  of  knowing  that  the 
English  edition  would  be  as  perfect  as  he 
could  make  it.  He  secured  a  berth  on 
the  Geranium^  sailing  from  Liverpool,  and 
cabled  Brant  to  that  effect.  The  day 
before  he  sailed  he  got  a  cablegram  that 
bewildered  him.  It  was  simply,  "  She's 
a-booming."  He  regretted  that  he  had 
never  learned  the  American  language. 


Icham- 
[qualid 
He 
le  first 
Int  had 
:r  than 


il! 


;,,.  -^^ 


I  ^=!l 


'  1 


CHAPTER  II. 


1  'ii 


Kenan  Buel  received  from  his  London 
publisher  a  brown  paper  parcel,  and  on 
opening  it  found  the  contents  to  be  six 
exceedingly  new  copies  of  his  book. 
Whatever  the  publisher  thought  of  the 
inside  of  the  work,  he  had  not  spared 
pains  to  make  the  outside  as  attractive  as 
it  could  be  made  at  the  price.  Buel 
turned  it  over  and  over,  and  could  al- 
most imagine  himself  buying  a  book  that 
looked  so  tastefully  got  up  as  this  one. 
The  sight  of  the  volume  gave  him  a  thrill, 
for  he  remembered  that  the  Press  doubt- 
less received  its  quota  at  about  the  same 
time  his  parcel  came,  and  he  feared  he 
would  not  be  out  of  the  country  before 
the  first  extract  from  the  clipping  agency 
arrived.  However,  luck  was  with  the 
young  man,  and  he  found  himself  on  the 
platform  of  Euston  Station,  waiting  for 
the    Liverpool   express,   without    having 


ilii 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


147 


ondoa 
nd  on 
be  six 
book, 
of  the 
spared 
:tive  as 
Buel 
uld  al- 
|ok  that 
is  one. 
|a  thrill, 
doubt- 
e  same 
.red  he 
before 
agency 
lith    the 
on  the 
|ting  for 
having 


seen  anything  about  his  book  in  the  pa- 
pers, except  a  brief  line  giving  its  title, 
the  price,  and  his  own  name,  in  the 
"Books  Received  "  column. 

As  he  lingered  around  the  well-kept 
bookstall  before  the  train  left,  he  saw  a 
long  row  of  Hodden's  new  novel,  and  then 
his  heart  gave  a  jump  as  he  caught  sight 
of  two  copies  of  his  own  work  in  the  row 
labelled  "  New  Books."  He  wanted  to 
ask  the  clerk  whether  any  of  them  had 
been  sold  yet,  but  in  the  first  place  he 
lacked  the  courage,  and  in  the  second 
place  the  clerk  was  very  busy.  As  he 
stood  there,  a  comely  young  woman, 
equipped  for  traveling,  approached  the 
stall,  and  ran  her  eye  hurridly  up  and 
down  the  tempting  array  of  literature. 
She  bought  several  of  the  illustrated  pa- 
pers, and  then  scanned  the  new  books. 
The  clerk,  following  her  eye,  picked  out 
Buel's  book. 

"  Just  out,  miss.     Three  and  sixpence.'* 

"Who  is  the  author?"  asked  the  girl. 

"  Kenan  Buel,  a  new  man,"  answered 
the  clerk,  without  a  moment's  hesitation, 
and  without  looking  at  the  title-page. 
"  Very  clever  work." 


I  lis 


148 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


M\i 


i\ ;         'i| 


Hijh 


Buel  was  astonished  at  the  knowledge 
shown  by  the  clerk.  He  knew  that  VV. 
H.  Smith  &  Son  never  had  a  book  of  his 
before,  and  he  wondered  how  the  clerk 
apparently  knew  so  much  of  the  volume 
and  its  author,  forgetting  that  it  was  the 
clerk's  business.  The  girl  listlessly  ran 
the  leaves  of  the  book  past  the  edge  of 
her  thumb.  It  seemed  to  Buel  that  the 
fate  of  the  whole  edition  was  in  her 
hands,  and  he  watched  her  breathlessly, 
even  forgetting  how  charming  she  looked. 
There  stood  the  merchant  eager  to  sell, 
and  there,  in  the  form  of  a  young  woman, 
was  the  great  public.  If  she  did  not  buy, 
why  should  any  one  else  ;  and  if  nobody 
bought,  what  chance  had  an  un'.nown 
author  ? 

She  put  the  book  down,  and  looked 
up  as  she  heard  some  one  sigh  deeply 
near  her. 

"  Have  you  Hodden's  new  book  ? "  she 
asked. 

"  Yes,  miss.     Six  shillings." 

The  clerk  quickly  put  Buel's  book  be- 
side its  lone  companion,  and  took  down 
Hodden's. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  girl,  giving  him 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


149 


ledge 
It  W. 
3f  his 
clerk 
olume 
as  the 
;ly  ran 
Icre  of 
lat  the 
m    her 
ilessly, 
looked, 
to  sell, 
woman, 
iQt  buy, 
nobody 
V.nown 

looked 
deeply 

'  •'  she 


)Ook  be- 
Ik  down 

ring  him 


a  half  sovereign  ;  and,  taking  the  change, 
she  departed  with  her  bundle  of  literature 
to  the  train. 

Buel  said  afterwards  that  what  hurt 
him  most  in  this  painful  incident  was 
the  fact  that  if  it  were  repeated  often 
the  bookstall  clerk  would  lose  faith  in  the 
book.  He  had  done  so  well  for  a  man 
who  could  not  possibly  have  read  a  word 
of  the  volume,  that  Buel  felt  sorry  on  the 
clerk's  account  rather  than  his  own  that 
the  copy  had  not  been  sold.  He  walked 
to  the  end  of  the  platform,  and  then  back 
to  the  bookstall. 

"  Has  that  new  book  of  Buel's  come 
out  yet  ?  "  he  asked  the  clerk  in  an  un- 
concerned tone. 

**  Yes,  sir.  Here  it  is  ;  three  and  six- 
pence, sir." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Buel,  putting  his 
hand  in  his  pocket  for  the  money.  "  How 
is  it  selling?  " 

"  Well,  sir,  there  won't  be  much  call  for 
it,  not  likely,  till  the  reviews  begin  to  come 
out." 

There,  Mr.  Buel,  you  had  a  lesson,  if 
you  had  only  taken  it  to  heart,  or  pon- 
dered   on  its   meaning.     Since    then  you 


15^ 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


I   I 


11  \  \  '^ 


have  often  been  very  scornfnl  of  news- 
paper reviews,  yet  you  saw  yourself  how 
the  great  public  treats  a  man  who  is  not 
even  abused.  How  were  you  to  know 
that  the  column  of  grossly  unfair  rancour 
which  The  Daily  Argus  poured  out  on 
your  book  two  days  later,  when  you  were 
sailing  serenely  over  the  Atlantic,  would 
make  that  same  clerk  send  in  four  sepa- 
rate orders  to  the  "  House  "  during  the 
week  ?  Medicine  may  have  a  bad  taste, 
and  yet  have  beneficial  results.  So  Mr. 
Kenan  Buel,  after  buying  a  book  of  which 
he  hac  six  copies  in  his  portmanteau,  with 
no  ono  to  give  them  to,  took  his  place  in 
the  train,  and  in  due  time  found  himself 
at  Liverpool  and  on  board  the  Geranii&fn. 
The  stewards  being  busy,  Buel  placed 
his  portmanteau  on  the  deck,  and,  with 
his  newly  bought  volume  in  his  hand,  the 
string  and  brown  paper  still  around  it,  he 
walked  up  and  down  on  the  empty  side 
of  the  deck,  noticing  how  scrupulously 
clean  the  ship  was.  It  was  the  first  time 
he  had  ever  been  on  board  a  steamship, 
and  he  could  not  trust  himself  unguided 
to  explore  the  depths  below,  and  see  what 
kind  of  a  state-room  and  what  sort  of  a 


■i  n 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


'S^ 


levvs- 
how 

is  not 

know 

ncour 

>ut  on 

1  were 

would 

r  sepa- 

ng  the 

1  taste, 

So  Mr. 

f  which 

iUjWith 

place  in 

himself 

raniwn, 
placed 
d,  with 
.nd,  the 
,d  it,  he 
ity  side 
lulously 
|rst  time 
lamship, 
nguided 
,ee  what 
lort  of  a 


companion  chance  had  allotted  to  him. 
They  had  told  him  when  he  bought  his 
ticket  that  the  steamer  would  be  very 
crowded  that  trip,  so  many  Americans 
were  returning  ;  but  his  state-room  hat! 
berths  for  only  two,  and  he  had  a  faint  hope 
the  other  fellow  would  not  turn  up.  As  he 
paced  the  deck  his  thoughts  wandered  to 
the  pretty  girl  who  did  not  buy  his  book. 
He  had  seen  her  again  on  the  tender  in 
company  with  a  serene  and  placid  older 
woman,  who  sat  unconcernedly,  sur- 
rounded by  bundles,  shawls,  straps, 
valises,  and  hand-bags,  which  the  girl 
nervously  counted  every  now  and  then, 
fruitlessly  trying  to  convince  the  elderly 
lady  that  something  must  have  been  left 
behind  in  the  train,  or  lost  in  transit  from 
the  station  to  the  steamer.  The  worry 
of  travel,  which  the  elderly  woman  abso- 
lutely refused  to  share,  seemed  to  rest 
with  dcuble  weight  on  the  shoulders  of 
the  girl. 

As  Buel  thought  of  all  this,  he  saw  the 
girl  approach  him  along  the  deck  with  a 
smile  of  apparent  recognition  on  her  face. 
"  She  evidently  mistak'^s  me  for  some 
one  else,"  he  said  to  himself. 


152 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


<< 


Oh,   thank    you,"   she   cried, 


1  ( 


'iia 


II  i 


i        :    ,'!!: 


coming" 
"  I  see 


i  i    ! 


near,  and  holding  out  her  hand, 
you  have  found  my  book." 

He  helplessly  held  out  the  package  to 
her,  which  she  took. 

*'  Is  it  yours  ?  "  he  asked. 

*'  Yes,  I  recognised  it  by  the  string.  I 
bought  it  at  Euston  Station.  I  am  for- 
ever losing  things,"  she  added.  "  Thank 
you,  ever  so  much." 

Buel  laughed  to  himself  as  she  disap- 
peared. "Fate  evidently  intends  her  to 
read  my  book,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  She 
vv'ill  think  the  clerk  has  made  a  mistake. 
I  must  get  her  unbiassed  opinion  of  it  be- 
fore the  voyage  ends." 

The  voyage  at  that  moment  was  just 
beginnings  and  the  thud,  thud  of  the  screw 
brought  that  fact  to  his  knowledge.  He 
sought  a  steward,  and  asked  him  to  carry 
the  portmanteau  to  berth  159. 

•*  You  don't  happen  to  know  whether 
there  is  any  one  else  in  that  room  or  not, 
do  you?  "  he  asked, 

'*  It's  likely  there  is,  sir.  The  ship's 
very  full  this  voyage." 

Buel  followed  him  into  the  saloon,  and 
along  the    seemingly   interminable   pas- 


THE  HER/ILDS  OF  FAME. 


'53 


ommg 
*  I  see 


age  to 


ing.     I 

Lin  for- 

Thank 

;  disap- 
her  to 
.  **  She 
mistake, 
of  it  be- 

was  just 
e  screw 
ge.     He 
to  carry 

I  whether 
or  not, 

le   ship's 

pon,  and 
Ible  pas- 


sage ;  then  down  a  narrow  side  alley,  into 
which  a  door  opened  marked  159-160, 
The  steward  rapped  at  the  door,  and,  as 
there  was  no  response,  opened  it.  All 
hopes  of  a  room  to  himself  vanished  as 
Buel  looked  into  the  small  state-room. 
There  was  a  steamer  trunk  on  the  floor, 
a  portmanteau  on  the  seat,  while  the  two 
bunks  were  covered  with  a  miscellaneous 
assortment  of  hand-bags,  shawl-strap 
bundles,  and  packages. 

The  steward  smiled.  *'  I  think  he  wants 
a  room  to  himself,''  he  said. 

On  the  trunk  Buel  noticed  the  name  in 
white  letters  "  Hodden,"  and  instantly 
there  arose  within  him  a  hope  that  his 
companion  was  to  be  the  celebrated  nov- 
elist. This  hope  was  strengthened  when 
he  saw  on  the  portmanteau  the  letters 
"  J.  L.  H.,"  which  were  the  novelist's  ini- 
tials. He  pictured  to  himself  interesting 
conversations  on  the  way  over,  and  hoped 
he  would  receive  some  particulars  from 
the  novelist's  own  lips  of  his  early  strug- 
gles for  fame.  Still,  he  did  not  allow 
himself  to  build  too  much  on  his  suppo- 
sition, for  there  are  a  great  many  people 
in  this  world,  and  the  chances  were  that 


[fflfr 


154 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


\ 


;    :;  iiii 


the  traveller  would  be  some  commonplace 
individual  of  the  same  name. 

The  steward  placed  Buel's  portmanteau 
beside  the  other,  and  backed  out  of  the 
overflowing  cabi«.  All  doubt  as  to  the 
identity  of  the  other  occupant  was  put  at 
rest  by  the  appearance  down  the  passage 
of  a  man  whom  Buel  instantly  recognised 
by  the  portraits  he  had  seen  of  him  in  the 
illustrated  papers.  He  was  older  than 
the  pictures  made  him  appear,  and  there 
was  a  certain  querulous  expression  on  his 
face  which  was  also  absent  in  the  por- 
traits. He  glanced  into  the  state-room, 
looked  for  a  moment  through  Buel,  and 
then  turned  to  the  steward. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  putting  that 
portmanteau  into  my  room  ?  " 

"  This  gentleman  has  the  upper  berth, 
sir." 

"  Nonsense.  The  entire  room  is  mine. 
Take  the  portmanteau  out." 

The  steward  hesitated,  looking  from 
one  to  the  other. 

"The  ticket  is  for  i59,sir,"he  said  at  last. 

"  Then  there  is  some  mistake.  The 
room  is  mine.  Don't  have  me  ask  you 
again  to  remove  the  portmanteau." 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


155 


[place 

nteau 
Df  the 
to  the 
put  at 
assage 
gniseci 
in  the 
r  than 
\  there 
I  on  his 
le  por- 
e-room, 
lei,  and 

ng  that 

berth, 

IS  mine. 

g    from 

d  at  last, 
e.  The 
ask  you 


"  Perhaps  you  would  like  to  see  the  pur- 
ser, sir." 

"I  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  purser. 
Do  as  I  tell  you." 

All  this  time  he  had  utterly  ignored 
Buel,  whose  colour  was  rising.  The 
young  man  s-tul  quietly  to  the  steward, 
*'  Take  out  the  portmanteau,  please." 

When  it  was  placed  in  the  passage, 
Hodden  entered  the  room,  shut  and 
bolted  the  door. 

"  Will  you  see  the  purser,  sir  ?  "  said 
the  steward  in  an  awed  whisper. 

"  I  think  so.  There  is  doubtless  some 
mistake,  as  he  says." 

The  purser  was  busy  allotting  seats  at 
the  tables,  and  Buel  waited  patiently. 
He  had  no  friends  on  board,  and  did  not 
care  where  he  was  placed. 

When  the  purser  was  at  liberty,  the  stew- 
ard explained  to  him  the  difficulty  which 
had  arisen.     The  official  looked  at  his  list. 

"159 — Buel.  Is  that  your  name,  sir? 
Very  good  ;  160 — Hodden.  That  is  the 
gentleman  now  in  the  room.  Well,  what 
is  the  trouble  ?" 

"  Mr  Hodden  says,  sir,  that  the  room 
bclonfTfs  to  him." 


is6 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


/! 


/      I 


I    ' 


l! 


>! 


"  Have  you  seen  his  ticket  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Then  bring  it  to  me." 

*'  Mistakes  sometimes  happen,  Mr. 
Buel,"  said  the  purser,  when  the  steward 
vanished.  "  But  as  a  general  thing  I  find 
that  people  simply  claim  what  they  have 
no  right  to  claim.  Often  the  agents 
promise  that  if  possible  a  passenger  shall 
have  a  room  to  himself,  and  when  we  can 
do  so  we  let  him  have  it.  I  try  to  please 
everybody  ;  but  all  the  steamers  crossing 
to  America  are  full  at  this  season  of  the 
year,  and  it  is  not  practicable  to  give 
every  one  the  whole  ship  to  himself.  As 
the  Americans  say,  some  people  want  the 
earth  for  jQi2  or  jQi^y  ^^^  ^^e  can't 
always  give  it  to  them.  Ah,  here  is  the 
ticket.  It  is  just  as  I  thought.  Mr. 
Hodden  is  entitled  merely  to  berth 
1 60." 

The  arrival  of  the  ticket  was  quickly 
followed  by  the  advent  of  Mr.  Hodden 
himself.     He  still  ignored  Buel. 

"  Your  people  in  London,"  he  said  to 
the  purser,  "  guaranteed  me  a  room  to 
myself.  Otherwise  I  would  not  have 
come   on    this  line.     Now  it  seems  that 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


157 


Mr. 

ward 

[  find 

have 

gents 

shall 
re  can 
please 
ossing 
of  the 
o  give 
f.     As 
int  the 
can't 

IS  the 

Mr. 

berth 

quickly 
lodden 

said  to 
com  to 
)t  have 
ms  that 


another  person  has  been  put  in  with  me, 
I  must  protest  against  this  kind  of  usage." 

"  Have  you  any  letter  from  them  guar- 
anteeing the  room  ? "  asked  the  purser 
blandly. 

"  No.  I  supposed  until  now  that  their 
word  was  sufficient." 

"  Well,  you  see,  I  am  helpless  in  this 
case.  These  two  tickets  are  exactly  the 
same  with  the  exception  of  the  numbers. 
Mr.  Buel  has  just  as  much  right  to  insist 
on  being  alone  in  the  room  as  far  as  the 
tickets  go,  and  I  have  had  no  instructions 
in  the  matter." 

"  But  it  is  an  outrage  that  they  should 
promise  me  one  thing  in  London,  and 
then  refuse  to  perform  it,  when  I  am  help- 
less on  the  ocean." 

"  If  they  have  done  so '.' 

*' //"they  have  done  so  ?  Do  you  doubt 
my  word,  sir  ?" 

**  Oh,  not  at  all,  sir,  not  at  all,"  an- 
swered the  purser  in  his  most  concil- 
iatory tone.  "  But  in  that  case  your 
ticket  should  have  been  marked  159 — 
160." 

"I  am  not  to  suffer  for  their  blunders." 

"  I  see  by  this  list  that  you  paid  ;£^i2 
for  your  ticket.     Am  I  right  ?  " 


j-jtypi" 


■58 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


d  li 


;i'ili!!! 


"  That  was  the  amount,  I  believe.  I 
paid  what  I  was  asked  to  pay." 

"  Quite  so,  sir.  Well,  you  see,  that  is 
the  price  of  one  berth  only.  Mr.  Buel, 
here,  paid  the  same  amount." 

"  Come  to  the  point.  Do  I  understand 
you  to  refuse  to  remedy  the  mistake  (to 
put  the  matter  in  its  mildest  form)  of 
your  London  people  ?" 

"  I  do  not  refuse.  I  would  be  only  too 
glad  to  give  you  the  room  to  yourself,  if 
it  were  possible.  Unfortunately,  it  is 
not  possible.  I  assure  you  there  is  not 
an  unoccupied  state-room  on  the  ship." 

"  Then  I  will  see  the  captain.  Where 
shall  I  find  him?" 

"  Very  good,  sir.  Steward,  take  Mr. 
Hodden  to  the  captain's  room," 

When  they  were  alone  again  Buel  very 
contritely  expressed  his  sorrow  at  hav- 
ing been  the  innocent  cause  of  so  much 
trouble  to  the  purser. 

"  Bless  you,  sir,  I  don't  mind  it  in  the 
least.  This  is  a  very  simple  case.  Where 
both  occupants  of  a  room  claim  it  all  to 
themselves,  and  where  both  are  angry 
and  abuse  me  at  the  same  time,  then  it 
gets  a  bit    lively.     I  don't   envy   him   his 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


159 


e.     1 

hat  is 
Buel, 

r  stand 
ke  (to 
rm)  of 

nly  too 

rself,  if 

^,  it  is 

is  not 

ihip." 
Where 

ike  Mr. 

luel  very 

at  hav- 

so  much 

it  in  the 
Where 
it  all  to 
re  angry 
|e,  then  it 
him  his 


talk  with  the  captain.  If  the  old  man 
happens  to  be  feeling  a  little  grumpy  to- 
day, and  he  most  generally  does  at  the 
beginning  of  the  voyage,  Mr.  Hodden 
will  have  a  bad  ten  minutes.  Don't  you 
bother  a  bit  about  it,  sir,  but  go  down  to 
your  room  and  make  yourself  at  home. 
It  will  be  all  right." 

Mr.  Hodden  quickly  found  that  the  ap- 
peal to  Caesar  was  not  well  timed.  The 
captain  had  not  the  suave  politeness  of  the 
purser.  There  may  be  greater  and  more 
powerful  men  on  earth  than  the  captain  of 
an  ocean  liner,  but  you  can't  get  any  sea- 
faring man  to  believe  it,  and  the  captains 
themselves  are  rarely  without  a  due  sense 
of  their  own  dignity.  The  man  who 
tries  to  bluff  the  captain  of  a  steamship 
like  the  Geranium  has  a  hard  row  to  hoe. 
Mr.  Hodden  descended  to  his  state-room 
in  a  more  subdued  frame  of  mind  than 
when  he  went  on  the  upper  deck.  How- 
ever, he  still  felt  able  to  crush  his  unfor- 
tunate room-mate. 

"You  insist,  then,"  he  said,  speaking 
to  Buel  for  the  irst  time,  "on  occupying 
this  room  ?  ' 

"  I  have  no  choice  in  the  matter." 


PH  ^r 


li    '         ! 


M   -^ 


:!'!!i^ 


m:\ 


160 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


"  I  thought  perhaps  you  might  feel 
some  hesitation  in  forcing  yourself  in 
where  you  were  so  evidently  not 
wanted  ? " 

The  hero-worshipper  in  Buel  withered, 
and  the  natural  Englishman  asserted 
itself. 

"  I  have  exactly  the  same  right  in  this 
room  that  you  have.  I  claim  no  privi- 
lege which  I  have  not  paid  for." 

"  Do  you  wish  to  suggest  that  I  have 
made  such  a  claim  ?  ** 

*'  I  suggest  nothing ;  I  state  it.  You 
hare  made  such  a  claim,  and  in  a  most 
offensive  manner." 

"  Do  you  understand  the  meaning  of 
the  language  you  are  using,  sir  ?  You 
are  calling  me  a  liar." 

"  You  put  it  very  tersely,  Mr.  Hodden. 
Thank  you.  Now,  if  you  venture  to  ad- 
dress me  again  during  this  voyage,  I  shall 
be  obliged  if  you  keep  a  civil  tongue  in 
your  head." 

"Good  heavens!  You  talk  of  civil- 
ity?" cried  the  astonished  man,  aghast. 

His  room-mate  went  to  the  upper  deck. 
In  the  next  state-room  pretty  Miss  Carrie 
Jessop  clapped  her  small  hands  silently 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


i6i 


,   feel 

;lf    in 

not 

tiered, 
serted 

n  this 
privi- 

I  have 

.     You 
a  most 

ling  of 
You 

odden. 
to  ad- 
I  shall 
|igue  in 

f  civil- 
[ghast. 
;r  deck. 
Carrie 

I  silently 


together.  The  construction  of  state- 
rooms is  such  that  every  word  uttered  in 
one  above  the  breath  is  audible  in  the 
next  room.  Miss  Jessop  could  not  help 
hearing  the  whole  controversy,  from  the 
time  the  steward  was  ordered  so  curtlv  to 
remove  the  portmanteau,  until  the  culmi- 
nation of  the  discussion  and  the  evident 
defeai  of  Mr.  Hodden.  Her  sympathy 
was  all  with  the  otlier  fellow,  at  that  mo- 
ment unknown,  but  a  sly  peep  past  the 
edge  of  the  scarcely  opened  door  told 
her  that  the  unnamed  party  in  the  quarrel 
was  the  awkward  young  man  who  had 
found  her  book.  She  wondered  if  the 
Hodden  mentioned  could  possibly  be  the 
author,  and,  with  a  woman's  inconsistency, 
felt  sure  that  she  would  detest  the  story, 
as  if  the  personality  of  the .  writer  had 
anything  whatever  to  do  with  his  work. 
She  took  down  the  parcel  from  the  shelf 
and  undid  the  string.  Her  eyes  opened 
wide  as  she  looked  at  the  title. 

"Well  I  never!"  she  gasped.  "If  I 
haven't  robbed  that  poor,  innocent  young 
man  of  a  book  he  bought  for  himself  ! 
Attempted  eviction  by  his  room-mate, 
and  bold  highway  robbery  by  an  unknown 


lilli 


162 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


woman  !  No,  it's  worse  than  that ;  it's 
piracy,  for  it  happened  on  the  high  seas." 
And  the  girl  laughed  softly  to  herself. 


li  li  ■ 


it's 


If 


CHAPTER  III. 


Kenan  Buel  walked  the  deck  alone  in 
the  evening  light,  and  felt  that  he  ought 
to  be  enjoying  the  calmness  and  serenity 
of  the  ocean  expanse  around  him  after 
the  noise  and  squalor  of  London  ;  but 
now  that  the  excitement  of  the  recent 
quarrel  was  over,  he  felt  the  reaction,  and 
his  natural  diffidence  led  him  to  blame 
himself.  Most  of  the  passengers  were  be- 
low, preparing  for  dinner,  and  he  had  the 
deck  to  himself.  As  he  turned  on  one  of 
his  rounds,  he  saw  approaching  him  the 
girl  of  Euston  Station,  as  he  mentally 
termed  her.  She  had  his  book  in  her 
hand. 

"  I  have  come  to  beg  your  pardon,"  she 
said.  "  I  see  it  was  your  own  book  1 
took  from  you  to-day." 

*'  My  own  book  !  "  cried  Buel,  fearing 
she  had  somehow  discovered  his  guilty 
secret. 


t 


I 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


"Yes.  Didn't  you  buy  this  fer  your- 
self?"    She  held  up  the  volumey 

"Oh,  certainly.  But  you  -are  quite 
welcome  to  it,  I  am  sure." 

''  I  couldn't  think  of  taking  it  away 
from  you  before  you  have  read  it." 

"  ^ut  I  have  read  it,"  replied  Buel, 
eagerly  ;  "and  I  shall  be  very  pleased  to 
lend  it  to  you." 

"Indeed?  And  how  did  you  manage 
to  read  it  without  undoing  the  parcel  ?  " 

"  That  is  to  say  I — I  skimmed  over  it 
before  it  was  done  up,"  he  said  in  confu- 
sion. The  clear  eyes  of  the  girl  discon- 
certed him,  and,  whatever  his  place  in 
fiction  is  now,  he  was  at  that  time  a  most 
unskilful  liar. 

"  You  see,  I  bought  it  because  it  is 
written  by  a  namesake  of  mine.  My 
name  is  Buel,  and  I  happened  to  notice 
that  was  the  name  on  the  book  ;  in  fact, 
if  you  remember,  when  you  were  looking 
over  it  at  the  stall,  the  clerk  mentioned 
the  author's  name,  and  that  naturally 
caught  my  attention." 

The  girl  glanced  with  renewed  interest 
at  the  volume. 

"  Was  this  the  book  I  was  looking  at  ? 


THE  HER/ILDS  OF  FAME. 


'65 


your- 

quite 

:  away 

Buel, 
ised  to 


nanage 
eel  ? " 
over  it 
I  confu- 
discoa- 
)lace  in 
;  a  most 

e  it  is 
le.  My 
0  notice 
in  fact, 
looking 
ntioned 
laturally 

interest 
)king  at  ? 


The  story  I  bought  was  Hodden's  latest. 
1  found  it  a  moment  ago  down  in  my 
state-room,  so  it  was  not  lost  after  all." 

They  were  now  walking  togethtir  as  if 
they  were  old  acquaintances,  the  girl  still 
holding  the  volume  in  her  hand. 

"  By  the  way,"  she  said  innocently,  "  I 
see  on  the  passenger  list  that  there  is  a 
Mr.  Hodden  on  board.  Do  you  think  he 
can  be  the  novelist  ?  " 

"  I  believe  he  is,"  answered  Buel, 
stiffly. 

"  Oh,  that  will  be  too  jolly  for  anything. 
I  would  so  like  to  meet  him.  I  am  sure 
he  must  be  a  most  charming  man.  His 
books  show  such  insight  into  human  na- 
ture, such  sympathy  and  noble  purpose. 
There  could  be  nothing  petty  or  mean 
about  such  a  man." 

'*  I — I — suppose  not." 

"  Why,  of  course  there  couldn't.  You 
have  read  his  books,  have  you  not  ?  " 

"  All  of  them  except  his  latest." 

"  Well,  I'll  lend  you  that,  as  you  have 
been  so  kind  as  to  offer  me  the  reading 
of  this  one." 

"  Thank  you.  After  you  have  read  it 
yourself." 


11 


i66 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


;f 


h 
ii 


'f---; 


"  And  when  you  have  become  ac- 
quainted with  Mr.  Hodden,  I  want  you  to 
introduce  him  to  me." 

"  With  pleasure.  And — and  when  I  do 
so,  who  shall  1  tell  him  the  young  lady 
is?" 

The  audacious  girl  laughed  lightly,  and, 
stepping  back,  made  him  a  saucy  bow. 

"You  will  introduce  me  as  Miss  Caro- 
line Jessop,  of  New  York.  Be  sure  that 
you  say  *  New  York,'  for  that  will  ac- 
count to  Mr.  Hodden  for  any  eccentrici- 
ties of  conduct  or  conversation  he  may 
be  good  enough  to  notice.  I  suppose 
you  think  American  girls  are  very  for- 
ward ?     All  Englishmen  do." 

"  On  the  contiary,  I  have  always  under- 
stood that  they  are  very  charming." 

"  Indeed  ?  And  so  you  are  going  over 
to  see  ? " 

Buel  laughed.  All  the  depression  he 
felt  a  short  time  before  had  vanished. 

"  I  had  no  such  intention  when  I  began 
the  voyage,  but  even  if  I  should  quit  the 
steamer  at  Queenstown,  I  could  bear 
personal  testimony  to  the  truth  of  the 
statement." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Buel,  that  is  very  nicely  put. 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


167 


e    ac- 
^ou  to 

n  1  cio 
g  lady 

iy,  and, 

30W. 

,s  Caro- 
ire  that 
N\\\    ac- 
:entrici- 
he  may 
suppose 
rery  for- 

^s  under- 

^ing  over 

'ssion  he 
jsbed. 
\\  I  began 
quit  the 
luld    bear 
Ith  of  the 

licely  put. 


I  don't  think  you  can  improve  on  it,  so  I 
sliall  run  down  and  dress  for  dinner. 
There  is  the  first  gong.  Thanks  for  the 
^:ook." 

The  young  man  said  to  himself,  "  Ruel, 
my  boy,  you're  getting  on ;  "  and  he 
smiled  as  he  leaned  over  the  bulwark  and 
looked  at  the  rushing  water.  He  sobered 
instantly  as  he  remembered  that  he 
would  have  to  go  to  his  state-room  and 
perhaps  meet  Hodden.  It  is  an  awkward 
thing  to  quarrel  with  your  room-mate  at 
the  beginning  of  a  long  voyage.  He 
hoped  Hodden  had  taken  his  departure 
to  the  saloon,  and  he  lingered  until  the 
second  gong  rang.  Entering  the  state- 
room, fie  found  Hodden  still  there.  Buel 
gave  him  no  greeting.  The  other  cleared 
his  throat  several  times  and  then  said — 

"  I  have  not  the  pleasure  of  knowing 
your  name." 

"  My  name  is  Buel." 

"Well,  Mr.  Buel,  I  am  sorry  that  I 
spoke  to  you  in  the  manner  I  did,  and  I 
hope  you  will  allow  me  to  apologise  for 
doing   so.      Various   little   matters    had 

combined   to   irritate   me,    and Of 

course,  that  is  no  excuse.     But " 


m 


ui 


m 


w      ' 

hi 


n 


1 68  THE  HERALDS  OF  FAM^. 

**  Don't  say  anything  more.  I  unre- 
servedly retract  what  I  was  heated 
enough  to  say,  and  so  we  may  consider 
the  episode  ended.  I  may  add  that  if 
the  purser  has  a  vacant  berth  anywhere, 
I  shall  be  very  glad  to  take  it,  if  the 
occupants  of  the  room  make  no  objec- 
tion." 

**  You  are  very  kind,"  said  Hodden  ; 
but  he  did  not  make  any  show  of  declin- 
ing the  offer. 

"Very  well,  then;  let  us  settle  the 
matter  while  we  are  at  it,"  And  Buel 
pressed  the  electric  button. 

The  steward  looked  in,  saying, — 

*'  Dinner  is  ready,  gentlemen." 

**  Yfis,  I  know.  Just  ask  the  purser  if 
he  can  step  here  for  a  moment." 

The  purser  came  promptly,  and  if  he 
was  disturbed  at  being  called  at  such  a 
moment  he  did  not  show  it.  Pursers  are 
very  diplomatic  persons. 

**  Have  you  a  vrxant  berth  anywhere, 
purser  ?  " 

An  expression  faintly  suggestive  of 
annoyance  passed  over  the  purser's  serene 
brow.  He  thought  the  matter  had  been 
settled. 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


169 


unre- 
leated 
nsidcr 
that  if 
where, 
if  the 
objec- 

odden  ; 
declin- 

tle    the 
nd  Buel 


)urser   n 

nd  if  ^^e 
t  such  a 
rsers  are 

nywhere, 

■stive  of 
r's  serene 
had  been 


"We  have  several  berths  vacant,  but 
they  are  each  in  rooms  that  already  con- 
tain three  persons." 

"One  of  those  will  do  for  me  ;  that  is, 
if  the  occupants  have  no  objection." 

"  It  will  be  rather  crowded,  sir." 

"  That  doesn't  matter,  if  the  others  are 
willing." 

"Very  good,  sir.  I  will  see  to  it  im- 
mediately after  dinner." 

The  purser  was  as  good  as  his  word, 
and  introduced  Buel  and  his  portmanteau 
to  a  room  that  contained  three  wild 
American  collegians  who  had  been  doing 
Europe  "  on  the  cheap  "  and  on  foot. 
They  received  the  new-comer  with  a 
hilariousness  that  disconcerted  him. 

"Hello,  purser!"  cried  one,  "this  is 
an  Englishman.  You  didn't  t^ll  us  you 
were  going  to  run  in  an  Englishman  on  us." 

"  Never  mind,  we'll  convert  him  on  the 
way  over." 

"  I  say,  purser,  if  you  sling  a  hammock 
from  the  ceiling  and  put  up  a  cot  on  the 
floor  you  can  put  two  more  men  in  here. 
Why  didn't  you  think  of  that  ?  " 

"  It's  not  too  late  yet.  Why  did  you 
suggest  it  ? " 


170 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


i  1 

m 

*  I 
!'      i: 

'     '        1 

;  ■  I 

''I 


l-l'lflllij 


I 


W' 


I   It 


u 


m 


I     » 

::  I, 


"Gentlemen,"  said  Buel,  "I  have  no 
desire  to  intrude,  if  it  is  against  your 
wish.'* 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right.  Never  mind  them. 
They  have  to  talk  or  die.  The  truth  is, 
we  were  lonesome  without  a  fourth  man." 

"What's  his  name,  purser?" 

"  My  name  is  Buel." 

One  of  them  shouted  out  the  inquiry, 
"AVhat's  the  matter  with  Buel  ?"  and  all 
answered  in  concert  with  a  yell  that  made 
the  steamer  ring,  "/^<?'j  all  right." 

"You'll  have  to  sing  *  Hail  Columbia* 
night  and  morning  if  you  stay  in  this 
cabin." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Buel,  entering  into 
the  spirit  of  the  occasion.  "  Singing  is 
not  my  strong  point,  and  after  you  hear 
me  at  it  once  you  will  be  glad  to  pay  a 
heavy  premium  to  have  it  stopped." 

"  Say,  Buel,  can  you  play  poker  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but  I  can  learn." 

"  That's  business.  America's  just 
yearning  for  men  who  can  learn.  We 
have  had  so  many  Englishmen  who  know 
it  all,  that  we'll  welcome  a  change.  But 
poker's  an  expensive  game  to  acquire." 

"Don't  be  bluffed,  Mr.  Buel.     Not  one 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME, 


171 


/c    no 
your 

them, 
uth  is, 
I  man." 


inquiry, 
and  all 
iat  made 

3\umbia' 
y  in   this 

ring  into 
inging  is 

you  hear 
to  pay  a 
>ed." 

;r? 


?" 


just 
We 


:as 

;arn. 

Iwho  know 
nge.     But 
cquire." 
Not  one 


of  the  crowd  has  enough  money  left  to 
buy  the  drinks  all  round.  We  would 
never  have  got  home  if  we  hadn't  return 
tickets." 

"  Say,  boys,  let's  lock  the  purser  out, 
and  make  Buel  an  American  citizen  before 
he  can  call  for  help.  You  solemnly  swear 
that  you  hereby  and  hereon  renounce  all 
emperors,  kings,  princes,  and  potentates, 
and  more  especially — how  does  the  rest 
of  it  go  !  " 

"  He  must  give  up  his  titles,  honours, 
knighthoods,  and  things  of  that  sort." 

"  Say,  Buel,  you're  not  a  lord  or  a  duke 
by  any  chance  ?  Because,  if  you  are, 
we'll  call  back  the  purser  and  have  you 
put  out  yet." 

"  No,  I  haven't  even  the  title  esquire, 
which,  I  understand,  all  American  citizens 
possess." 

"  Oh,  you'll  do.  Now,  I  propose  that 
Mr.  Buel  take  his  choice  of  the  four 
bunks,  and  that  we  raffle  for  the  rest." 

When  Buel  reached  the  deck  out  of 
this  pandemonium,  he  looked  around  for 
another  citizen  of  the  United  States,  but 
she  was  not  there.  He  wondered  if  she 
were  reading  his  book,  and  how  she  liked  it. 


u   li        -^w'-mw  ■ 


•I   •  i't 


M; 


'i 


I 


Li   1 
1«   I' 

I*  ': 


lf?ll' 


l 


'   '         r 

[11 

'      '  1 

mm  ' 

1 

:  .11 

III 

J 

■ 

1 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Nf.xt  morning  Mr.  Buel  again  searched 
the  deck  for  the  fair  American,  and  this 
time  he  found  her  reading  his  book,  seated 
very  comfortably  in  her  deck  chair.  The 
fact  that  she  was  so  engaged  put  out  of 
Buel's  mind  the  greeting  he  had  carefully 
prepared  beforehand,  and  he  stood  there 
awkwardly,  not  knowing  what  to  say. 
He  inwardly  cursed  his  unreadiness,  and 
felt,  to  his  further  embarrassment,  that  his 
colour  was  rising.  He  was  not  put  more 
at  his  ease  when  Miss  Jessop  looked  up 
at  him  coldly,  with  a  distinct  frown  on 
her  pretty  face. 

*'  Mr.  Buel,  I  believe  ?"  she  said  pertly. 

"  I — I  think  so,"  he  stammered. 

She  went  on  v^ith  her  reading,  ignoring 
him,  and  he  stood  there  not  knowing  how 
to  get  away.  When  he  pulled  himself 
together,  after  a  few  moments*  silence, 
and  wn«;   about   to  depart,  wondering  at 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


173 


irched 

d  this 

seated 

The 

out  of 

.refully 

\  there 
o   say. 
ss,  and 
hat  his 
t  more 
ked  up 
own  on 

pertly. 

jnoring 
Ing  how 
Ihimself 
Isilence, 

[ring  at 


the  caprice  of  womankind,  she  looked  up 
again,  and  said  icily — 

"Why  don't  you  ask  me  to  walk  with 
you  ?  Do  you  think  you  iiave  no  duties, 
merely  because  you  are  on  shipboard  ?" 

"  It  isn't  a  duty,  it  is  a  pleasure,  if  you 
will  come  with  me.  I  was  afraid  I  had 
offended  you  in  some  way." 

"  You  have.  That  is  why  1  want  to 
walk  with  you.  I  wish  to  give  you  a 
piece  of  my  mind,  and  it  won't  be  pleas- 
ant to  listen  to,  I  can  assure  you.  So 
there  must  be  no  listener  but  yourself." 

"  Is  it  so  serious  as  that  ?  " 

"  Quite.  Assist  me,  please.  Why  do 
you  have  to  be  asked  to  do  such  a  thing  ? 
I  don't  suppose  there  is  another  man  on 
the  ship  who  would  see  a  lady  struggling 
with  her  rugs,  and  never  put  out  his 
hand." 

Before  the  astonished  young  man 
could  offer  assistance  the  girl  sprang  to 
her  feet  and  stood  beside  him.  Al- 
though she  tried  to  retain  her  severe 
look  of  displeasure,  there  was  a  merry 
twinkle  in  the  corner  of  her  eye,  as  if 
she  enjoyed  shocking  him. 

"  I  fear  I  am  very  unready." 


174 


THE  HER/tLDS  OF  FAME. 


!! 


!■' 


\f-  1 


IKi 


**  You  are." 

"  Will  you  take  my  arm  as  we  walk  ? " 

•'  Certainly  not,"  she  answered,  put- 
ting the  tips  of  her  fingers  into  the  shal- 
low pockets  of  her  pilot  jacket.  "  Don't 
you  know  the  United  States  are  long 
since  independent  of  luigland  ? " 

**  I  had  forgotten  for  the  moment. 
My  knowledge  of  history  is  rather  lim- 
ited, even  w!  en  I  try  to  remember. 
Still,  independence  and  all,  the  two  coun- 
tries may  be  friends,  may  they  not  ?" 

"  I  doubt  it.  It  seems  to  be  natural 
that  an  American  should  hate  an  Eng- 
lishman." 

"  Dear  me,  is  it  so  bad  as  that?  Why, 
may  1  ask  ?  Is  it  on  account  of  the 
little  trouble  in  1770,  or  whenever  it 
was  ?  " 


»» 


*'  1776,  when  we  conquered  you.' 
'*  Were  we  conquered  ?  That  is  an- 
other historical  fact  which  has  been  con- 
cealed from  me.  I  am  afraid  England 
doesn't  quite  realise  her  unfortunate 
position.  She  has  a  good  deal  of  go 
about  her  for  a  conquered  nation.  But  I 
thought  the  conquering,  which  we  all  ad- 
mit, was  of  much  more  recent  date,  when 


Ik?" 

,    put- 

I  shal- 

Don't 

I  long 

3ment. 
tv  lim- 
ember. 
>  coun- 
:  ?" 

natural 
n  Eng- 

Why, 
of  the 
2ver   it 


is  an- 
en  con- 
ngland 
rtunate 
of  go 
But  I 
J  all  ad- 
e,  when 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


175 


the  pretty  American  girls  began  to  come 
over.  Then  Englishman  at  once  capit- 
ulated." 

"  Yes,"  she  cried  scornfully.  "  And  I 
don't  know  which  to  despise  most,  the 
American  girls  who  marry  P^nglishmen, 
or  the  Englishmen  they  marry.  They 
are  married  for  their  money." 

"  Who  ?     The  Englishmen  ?  " 

The  girl  stamped  her  foot  on  the  deck 
as  they  turned  around. 

"You  know  very  well  what  I  mean.  An 
Englishman  thinks  of  nothing  but  money.'* 

"  Really  ?  I  wonder  where  you  got  all 
your  cut-and-dried  notions  about  Eng- 
lishn.3n  ?  You  seem  to  have  a  great 
capp-^'"  lOr  contempt.  I  don't  think  it 
is  ^.  'd.  My  experience  is  rather  lim- 
ited, of  course,  but,  as  far  as  it  goes,  I 
find  good  and  bad  in  all  nations.  There 
are  Englishmen  whom  I  find  it  impos- 
sible to  like,  and  there  are  Americans 
whom  I  find  I  admire  in  spite  of  myself. 
There  are  also,  doubtless,  good  English- 
men and  bad  Americans,  if  we  only  knew 
where  to  find  them.  You  cannot  sum 
up  a  nation  and  condemn  \'i  in  a  phrase, 
you  know." 


pfir 


176 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


■  i 


f. 


• 


■  ■  I 

'  !   .    .  .  '3 


I 


.1 


"Can't  you?  Well,  literary  English- 
men have  tried  to  do  so  in  the  case  of 
America.  No  English  writer  has  ever 
dealt  even  fairly  with  the  United 
States." 

"  Don't  you  think  the  States  are  a  lit- 
tle too  sensitive  about  the  matter? " 

"  Sensitive  ?  Bless  you,  we  don't 
mil. J  it  a  bit." 

'*  Then  where's  the  harm  ?  Besides, 
America  has  its  revenge  in  you.  Your 
scathing  contempt  more  than  balances 
the  account." 

"  I  only  wish  I  could  write.  Then  I 
would  let  you  know  what  I  think  of  you." 

"  Oh,  don't  publish  a  book  about  us. 
I  wouldn't  like  to  see  war  between  the 
two  countries." 

Miss  Jessop  laughed  merrily  for  so 
belligerent  a  person. 

"  War  ?  "  she  cried.  *'  I  hope  yet  to 
see  an  American  army  camped  in  Lon- 
don." 

"  If  that  is  your  desire,  you  can  see  it 
any  day  in  summer.  You  will  find  them 
tenting  out  at  the  Metropole  and  all  the 
expensive  hotels.  I  bivouacked  with  an 
invader  there   some   weeks  ago,  and   he 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


rlish- 

ise  of 

ever 

nited 

alit- 

don't 

isides, 

Your 

lances 

hen  I 
you." 

ut  us. 
n  the 

so 

yet  to 
Lon- 

see  it 

them 

lall  the 

rith  an 

Ind   he 


was  enduring  the  rigours  of  camp  life 
with  great  fortitude,  mitigating  his  trials 
with  unlimited  champagne." 

*'  Wh3%  Mr.  Buel,"  cried  the  girl  ad- 
miringly, "you're  beginning  to  talk  just 
like  an  American  yourself." 

"Oh,  now,  you  are  trying  to  make  me 
conceited." 

Miss  Jessop  sighed,  and  shook  her 
head. 

"  I  had  nearly  forgotten,"  she  said, 
"that  I  despised  you.  I  remember  now 
why  I  began  to  walk  with  you.  It  was 
not  to  talk  frivolously,  but  to  show  you 
the  depth  of  my  contempt !  Since  yes- 
terday you  have  gone  down  in  my  esti- 
mation from  190  to  56." 

"  Fahrenheit  ?  " 

"  No,  that  was  a  Wall  Street  quotation. 
Your  stock  has  '  slumped,'  as  we  say  on 
the  Street." 

"  Now  you  are  talking  Latin,  or  worse, 
for  I  can  understand  a  little  Latin." 

"*  Slumped  '  sounds  slangy,  doesn't  it  ? 
It  isn't  a  pretty  word,  but  it  is  expressive. 
It  means  going  down  with  a  run,  or 
rather,  all  in  a  heap." 

**What  have  I  done?" 


If   :i 


178 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


"Nothing  you  can  say  will  undo  it,  so 
there  is  no  use  in  speaking  any  more 
about  it.  Second  thoughts  are  best. 
My  second  thought  is  to  say  no  more." 

"  I  must  know  my  crime.  Give  me  a 
chance  to,  at  least,  reach  par  again,  even 
if  I  can't  hope  to  attain  the  90  above." 

"  I  thought  an  Englishman  had  some 
grit.  I  thought  he  did  not  allow  any 
one  to  walk  over  him.  1  thought  he 
stood  by  his  guns  when  he  knew  he  was 
in  the  right.  I  thought  he  was  a  manly 
man,  and  a  fighter  against  injustice  !  " 

"  Dear  me  !  Judging  by  your  con- 
versation of  a  few  minutes  ago,  one 
would  imagine  that  you  attributed  ex- 
actly the  opposite  qualities  to  him." 

"  I  say  I  thought  all  this — yesterday. 
I  don't  think  so  to-day." 

"Oh,  I  see!  And  all  on  account  of 
me?" 

"  All  on  account  of  you." 

"  Once  more,  what  have  I  done  ? " 

"  What  have  you  done  ?  You  have  al- 
lowed that  detestably  selfish  specimen  of 
your  race,  Hodden,  to  evict  you  from 
your  room." 

The   young  man  stopped   abruptly  in 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


179 


his  walk,  and  looked  at  the  girl  with  as- 
tonishment. She,  her  hands  still  coquet- 
tishly  thrust  in  her  jacket-pockets,  re- 
turned his  gaze  with  unruffled  serenity. 

"  What  do  you  know  about  it  ?  "  he  de- 
manded at  last. 

"Everything.  From  the  time  you 
meekly  told  the  steward  to  take  out  your 
valise  until  the  time  you  meekly  apolo- 
gised to  Hodden  for  having  told  him  the 
truth,  and  then  meekly  followed  the  purser 
to  a  room  containing  three  others." 

"  But  Hodden  meekly,  as  you  express 
it,  apologised  first.  I  suppose  you  know 
that  too,  otherwise  I  would  not  have 
mentioned  it." 

"  Certainly  he  did.  That  was  because 
he  found  his  overbearing  tactics  did  not 
work.  He  apologised  merely  to  get  rid 
of  you,  and  did.  That's  what  put  me  out 
of  patience  with  you.  To  think  you 
couldn't  see  through  his  scheme  ! " 

"  Oh  !  I  thought  it  was  the  lack  of 
manly  qualities  you  despised  in  me.  Now 
you  are  accusing  rae  of  not  being 
crafty." 

"  How  severely  you  say  that  !  You 
quite  frighten  me  !     You  will  be  making 


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THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


t: 


me  apologise  by-and-by,  and  I  don't  want 
to  do  that." 

Buel  laughed,  and  resumed  his  walk. 

"  It's  all  right,"  he  said  ;  "  Hodden's 
loss  is  my  gain.  I've  got  in  with  a  jolly 
lot,  who  took  the  trouble  last  night  to 
teach  me  the  great  American  game  at 
cards — and  counters." 

Miss  Jessop  sighed. 

"  Having  escaped  with  my  life,"  she 
said,  '*  I  think  I  shall  not  run  any  more 
risks,  but  shall  continue  with  you,';  book. 
I  had  no  idea  you  could  look  so  fierce. 
I  have  scarcely  gotten  over  it  yet.  Be- 
sides, I  am  very  much  interested  in  that 
book  of  years." 

"  Why  do  you  say  so  persistently  *  that 
book  of  mine  '  ?" 

"  Isn't  it  yours  ?  You  bought  it,  didn't 
you  ?  Then  it  was  written  by  your  rela- 
tive, you  know." 

"  I  said  my  namesake." 

"  So  you  did.  And  now  Vm  going  to 
ask  you  an  impudent  question.  You  will 
not  look  wicked  again,  will  you  ?  " 

"  I  won't  promise.  That  depends  en- 
tirely on  the  question." 

"It  is  easily  answered." 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


i8i 


"  Vm  waiting." 

"  What  is  your  Christian  name,  Mr. 
Buel?" 

"  My  Christian  name  ? "  he  repeated, 
uncomfortably. 

"  Yes,  what  is  it  ?  " 

**  Why  do  you  wish  to  know  ?  " 

"  A  woman's  reason — because." 

They  walked  the  length  of  the  deck  in 
silence.  , 

"  Come,  now,"  she  said,  "  confess. 
What  is  it?" 

"  John." 

Miss  Jessop  laughed  heartily,  but 
quietly. 

**You  think  John  commonplace,  I  sup- 
pose )  " 

"Oh,  it  suits  you^  Mr.  Buel.  Good- 
bye." 

As  the  young  woman  found  her  place 
in  the  book,  she  mused,  "  How  blind  men 
are,  after  all — with  his  name  in  full  on 
the  passage  list."  Then  she  said  to  her- 
self, with  a  sigh,  "  I  do  wish  I  had  bought 
this  book  instead  of  Hodden's." 


CHAPTER  V. 


ffi   I 


At  first  Mr.  Hodden  held  somewhat 
aloof  from  his  fellow-passengers  ;  but, 
finding  perhaps  that  there  was  no  general 
desire  to  intrude  upon  him,  he  conde- 
scended to  become  genial  to  a  select  few. 
He  walked  the  deck  alone,  picturesquely 
attired.  He  was  a  man  who  paid  consid- 
erable attention  to  his  personal  appear- 
ance. As  day  followed  day,  Mr.  Hodden 
unbent  so  far  as  to  talk  frequently  with 
Miss  Jessop  on  what  might  almost  be 
called  equal  terms.  The  somewh  start- 
ling opinions  and  unexpected  remarks  of 
the  American  girl  appeared  to  interest 
him,  and  doubtless  tended  to  confirm  his 
previous  unfavourable  impressions  of  the 
inhabitants  of  the  Western  world.  Mr. 
Buel  was  usually  present  during  these 
conferences,  and  his  conduct  under  the 
circumstances  was  not  admirable.  He 
was  silent  and  moody,  and  almost  grulf 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


183 


omewhat 
rs  ;    but, 
o  general 
le  conde- 
elect  few. 
uresquely 
id  consid- 
il  appear- 
r.  Hodden 
ently  with 
almost   be 
li      start- 
emarks  of 
interest 
onfirm  his 
ions  of  the 
orld.     Mr. 
ring  these 
under  the 
rable.     He 
most  gruft 


:o 


on  some  occasions.  Perhaps  Hodden's 
persistent  ignoring  of  him,  and  the  elder 
man's  air  of  conscious  superiority,  irri- 
tated Buel ;  but  if  he  had  had  the  advant- 
age of  mixing  much  in  the  society  of  his 
native  land  he  would  have  become  ac- 
customed to  that.  People  thrive  on  the 
condescension  of  the  great  ;  they  like  it, 
and  boast  about  it.  Yet  Buel  did  not 
seem  to  be  pleased.  But  the  most  as- 
tounding thing  was  that  the  young  man 
should  actually  have  taken  it  upon  him- 
self to  lecture  Miss  Jessop  once,  when 
they  were  alone,  for  some  remarks  she 
had  made  to  Hodden  as  she  sat  in  her 
deck-chair,  with  Hodden  loquacious  on 
her  right  and  Buel  taciturn  on  her  left. 
What  right  had  Buel  to  find  fault  with  a 
free  and  independent  citizen  of  another 
country  ?  Evidently  none.  It  might 
have  been  expected  that  Miss  Jessop, 
rising  to  the  occasion,  would  have  taught 
the  young  man  his  place,  and  would  per- 
haps have  made  some  scathing  remark 
about  the  tendency  of  Englishmen  to 
interfere  in  matters  that  did  not  concern 
them.  But  she  did  nothing  of  the  kind. 
She  looked  down  demurely  on  the  deck, 


i 


LI: 


■1 
1 


184 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


with  the  faint  flicker  of  a  smile  hovering 
about  her  pretty  lips,  and  now  and  then 
flashed  a  quick  glance  at  the  serious  face 
of  the  young  man.  The  attitude  was 
very  sweet  and  appealing,  but  it  was  not 
what  we  have  a  right  to  expect  from  one 
whose  ruler  is  her  servant  towards  one 
whose  ruler  is  his  sovereign.  In  fact,  the 
conduct  of  those  two  young  people  at 
this  time  was  utterly  inexplicable. 

"Why  did  you  pretend  to  Hodden  that 
you  had  never  heard  of  him,  and  make 
him  state  that  he  was  a  writer  of  books  ?  " 
Buel  had  said. 

'*I  did  it  for  his  own  good.  Do  you 
want  me  to  minister  to  his  insufferable 
vanity  ?  Hasn't  he  egotism  enough 
already  ?  I  saw  in  a  paper  a  while  ago 
that  his  most  popular  book  had  sold  to 
the  extent  of  over  100,000  copies  in 
America.  I  suppose  that  is  something 
wonderful  ;  but  what  does  it  amount  to 
after  all  ?  It  leaves  over  fifty  millions  of 
people  who  doubtless  have  never  heard 
of  him.  For  the  time  being  I  merely 
went  with  the  majority.  We  always  do 
that  in  the  States." 

**  Then  I  suppose  you  will  not  tell  him 


[f; 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


1S5 


ivering 
d  then 
us  face 
ie   was 
A' as  not 
om  one 
rds  one 
:act,  the 
^ople  at 

den  that 
id  make 
books  ? " 

Do  you 
.ufferable 
enough 
vhile  ago 
sold  to 
copies   in 
omething 
mount  to 
lilUons  of 
ver  heard 
merely 
ilways  do 


tell  him 


you  bought  his  latest  book  in  London, 
and  so  you  will  not  have  the  privilege  of 
bringing  it  up  on  deck  and  reading  it  ?  " 

"  No.  The  pleasure  of  reading  that 
book  must  be  postponed  until  1  reach 
New  York.  But  my  punishment  doe;  not 
end  there.  Would  you  believe  that 
authors  are  so  vain  that  they  actually 
carry  with  them  the  books  they  have 
written  ?  " 

"You  astonish  me." 

"  I  thought  I  should.  And  added  to 
that,  would  you  credit  the  statement  that 
they  offer  to  lend  their  works  to  inoffen- 
sive people  who  may  not  be  interested 
in  them  and  who  have  not  the  courage  to 
refuse  ?  Why  do  you  look  so  confused, 
Mr.  Buel  ?  I  am  speaking  of  Mr.  Hod- 
den. He  kindly  offered  me  his  books  to 
read  on  the  way  over.  He  has  a  prettily 
bound  set  with  him.  He  gave  me  the 
first  to-day,  which  I  read  ever  so  many 
years  ago." 

"I  thought  you  liked  his  books  ?  " 

"For  the  first  time,  yes;  but  I  don't 
care  to  read  them  twice." 

The  conversation  was  here  interrupted 
by  Mr.   Hodden  himself,  who  sank  into 


y* 


!  . 


!   .      if: 


I" 

t: 
Si:  11 


186 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


the  vacant  chair  beside  Miss  Jessop. 
Buel  made  as  though  he  would  rise  and 
leave  them  together,  but  with  an  almost 
imperceptible  motion  of  the  hand  nearest 
him,  Miss  Jessop  indicated  her  wish  that 
he  should  remain,  and  then  thanked  him 
with  a  rapid  glance  for  understanding. 
The  young  man  felt  a  glow  of  satisfaction 
at  this,  and  gazed  at  the  blue  sea  with 
less  discontent  than  usual  in  his  eyes. 

"I  have  brought  you,"  said  the  novel- 
ist, *'  another  volume." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,"  cried  Miss  Duplicity, 
with  unnecessary  emphasis  on  the  middle 
word. 

"  It  has  been  considered,"  continued 
Mr.  Hodden,  "  by  those  whose  opinions 
are  thought  highly  of  in  London,  to  be 
perhaps  my  most  successful  work.  It  is, 
of  course,  not  for  me  to  pass  judgment 
on  such  an  estimate  ;  but  for  my  own  part 
I  prefer  the  story  I  gave  you  this  morn- 
ing. An  author's  choice  is  rarely  that  of 
the  public," 

"And  was  this  book  published  in 
America  ? " 

"  I  can  hardly  say  it  was  published. 
They  did  me   the  honour   to  pirate  it  in 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


187 


Jessop. 
rise  and 
[\  almost 
I  nearest 
,vish  that 
iked  him 
standing, 
tisfaction 

sea  with 
i  eyes, 
he  novel- 
Duplicity, 
the  middle 

continued 
e  opinions 
don,  to  be 
ork.     It  is, 
;  judgment 
ly  own  part 
this  morn- 
•ely  tliat  of 

iblished    in 

published, 
pirate  it  in 


your  most  charming  country.  Some 
friend — or  perhaps  I  should  say  enemy — 
sent  me  a  copy.  It  was  a  most  atrocious 
production,  in  a  paper  cover,  filled  with 
mistakes,  and  adorned  with  the  kind  of 
spelling,  which  is,  alas  !  prevalent  there." 

"  I  believe,"  said  Buel,  speaking  for  the 
first  time,  but  with  his  eyes  still  on  the 
sea,  "there  is  good  English  authority  for 
much  that  we  term  American  spelling." 

"  English  authority,  indeed  !  "  cried 
Miss  Jessop  ;  "  as  if  we  needed  English 
authority  for  anything.  If  we  can't  spell 
better  than  your  great  English  authority, 
Chaucer — well  !  "  Language  seemed  to 
fail  the  young  woman. 

"  Have  you  read  Chaucer  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
Hodden,  in  surprise. 

"  Certainly  not  ;  but  I  have  looked  at 
his  poems,  and  they  always  remind  me 
of  one  of  those  dialect  stories  in  the 
magazines." 

Miss  Jessop  turned  over  the  pages  of 
the  book  which  had  been  given  her,  and 
as  she  did  so  a  name  caught  her  atten- 
tion. She  remembered  a  problem  that 
had  troubled  her  when  she  read  the  book 
before.     She  cried  impulsively — 


i88 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


**  Oh,  Mr.  Hodden,  there  is  a  question 
1  want  to  ask  you  about  this  book.     Was 

"     Here  she  checked  herself  in  some 

confusion. 

Buel,  who  seemed  to  realise  the  situa- 
tion, smiled  grimly. 

"The  way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard," 
he  whispered  in  a  tone  too  low  for 
Hodden  to  hear. 

"Isn't  it?"  cordially  agreed  the  un- 
blushing young  woman. 

'*What  did  you  wish  to  ask  me  ?"  in- 
quired the  novelist. 

''  Was  it  the  American  spelling  or  the 
American  piracy  that  made  you  dislike 
the  United  States?" 

Mr.  Hodden  raised  his  eyebrows. 

"Oh,  I  do  not  dislike  the  United 
States.  I  have  many  friends  there,  and 
see  much  to  admire  in  the  country.  But 
there  are  some  things  that  do  not  com- 
mend themselves  to  me,  and  those  I 
ventured  to  touch  upon  lightly  on  one  or 
two  occasions,  much  to  the  displeasure  of 
a  section  of  the  inhabitants — a  small  sec- 
tion, I  hope." 

"  Don't  you  think,"  ventured  Buel, 
"  that  a  writer  should  rather  touch  on  what 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


189 


question 

k.     Was 

in  some 

he  situa- 

is  hard," 
low    for 

the    un- 

me  ? "  in- 

mg  or  the 
rou  dislike 

ows. 

le    United 
there,  and 
ntry.     But 
not  com- 
d    those    I 
y  on  one  or 
ipleasure  ot 
small  sec- 
ured   Buel, 
uchonwhat 


pleases  him  than  on  what  displeases  him, 
in  writing  of  a  foreign  country  ?  " 

"Possibly.  Nations  are  like  individ- 
uals ;  they  prefer  flattery  to  honest  criti- 
cism." 

"  But  a  writer  should  remember  that 
there  is  no  law  of  libel  to  protect  a  na- 
tion." 

To  this  remark  Mr.  Hodden  did  not 
reply. 

"And  what  did  you  object  to  most, 
Mr.  Hodden  ? "  asked  the  girl. 

"  That  is  a  hard  question  to  answer.  I 
think,  hov/ever,  that  one  of  the  most  de- 
plorable features  of  American  life  is  the 
unbridled  license  of  the  Press.  The  re- 
porters make  existence  a  burden  ;  they 
print  the  most  unjustifiable  things  in  their 
so-called  interviews,  and  a  man  has  no  re- 
dress. There  is  no  escaping  them.  If  a 
man  is  at  all  well  known,  they  attack  him 
before  he  has  a  chance  to  leave  the  ship. 
If  you  refuse  to  say  anything,  they  will 
write  a  purely  imaginative  interview. 
The  last  time  I  visited  America,  five  of 
them  came  out  to  interview  me — thev 
came  out  in  the  Custom  House  steamer, 
I  believ^e." 


:'i?j , 


mm^w 


190 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


i  '1 

fii 


r  '1 


"  Why,  I  should  feel  flattered  if  they 
took  all  that  trouble  over  me,  Mr.  Hod- 
den." 

**  All  I  ask  of  them  is  to  leave  me 
alone." 

'*  I'll  protect  you,  Mr.  Hodden.  When 
they  come,  you  stand  near  me,  and  I'll 
beat  them  off  with  ny  sunshade.  I  know 
two  newspaper  men  -real  nice  young  men 
they  are  too — and  they  always  do  what  I 
tell  them." 

**  I  can  quite  believe  it.  Miss  Jessop." 

"  Well,  then,  have  no  fear  while  I'm  on 
board." 

Mr.  Hodden  shook  his  head.  He  knew 
how  it  would  be,  he  said. 

"  Let  us  leave  the  reporters.  What 
else  do  you  object  to  ?  I  want  to  learn, 
and  so  reform  my  country  when  I  get 
back." 

"  The  mad  passion  of  the  people  after 
wealth,  and  the  unscrupulousness  of  their 
methods  of  obtaining  it,  seem  to  me  un- 
pleasant phases  of  life  over  there." 

"  So  they  are.  And  what  you  say 
makes  me  sigh  for  dear  old  London. 
How  honest  they  are,  and  how  little  they 
care  for  money   there  !     They  don't  pat 


ni' 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


191 


if   they 
r.  Hod- 

ave  me 

When 

and  I'll 

I  know 

ung  men 

o  what  I 

Jessop." 
le  I'm  on 

He  knew 

•s.  What 
;  to  learn, 
hen  I  get 

ople  after 
ss  of  their 
to  me  un- 
re." 
you    say 
London, 
little  they 
don't  pat 


up  the  price  50  per  cent,  merely  because 
a  girl  has  an  American  accent.  Oh  no. 
They  think  she  likes  to  buy  at  New  York 
prices.  And  they  are  so  honourable 
down  in  the  city  that  nobody  ever  gets 
cheated.     Why,  you  could  put  a  purse  up 

on    a  pole   in   London,  just  as as 

was  it  Henry  the  Eighth ?" 

"  Alfred,  I  think  !  "  suggested  Buel. 

"  Thanks  !  As  Alfred  the  Great  used 
to  do." 

Mr.  Hodden  looked  askance  at  the 
young  woman. 

"  Remember,"  he  said,  "  that  you  asked 
me  for  my  opinion.  If  what  I  have  said 
is  offensive  to  one  who  is  wealthy,  as 
doubtless  you  are,  Miss  Jessop,  I  most 
sincerely " 

"  Me  ?  Well,  I  never  know  whether 
I'm  wealthy  or  not.  I  expect  that  before 
long  I  shall  have  to  take  to  tvpewriting. 
Perhaps,  in  that  case,  you  will  give  me 
some  of  your  novels  to  do,  Mr.  Hodden. 
You  see,  my  father  is  on  the  Street." 

"  Dear  me  !  "  said  Mr.  Hodden,  "  I  am 
sorry  to  hear  that." 

"  Why  ?  They  are  not  all  rogues  on 
Wall  Street,  in  spite  of  what  the  papers 


i 


192 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


i( 


IfHI 


-\ 


say.  Remember  your  own  opinion  of 
the  papers.  Tiiey  are  not  to  be  trusted 
when  they  speak  of  Wall  Street  men. 
When  my  father  got  very  rich  once  I 
made  him  give  me  100,000  dollars,  so 
that,  should  things  go  wrong — they  gen- 
erally go  wrong  for  somebody  on  Wall 
Street — we  would  have  something  to  live 
on,  but,  unfortunately,  he  always  borrows 
it  again.  Some  day,  I'm  afraid,  it  will 
go,  and  then  will  come  the  typewriter. 
That's  why  I  took  my  aunt  with  me  and 
saw  Europe  before  it  was  too  late.  I 
gave  him  a  power  of  attorney  before  I 
left,  so  I've  had  an  anxious  time  on  the 
Continent.  My  money  was  all  right 
when  we  left  Liverpool,  but  goodness 
knows  where  it  will  be  when  I  reach  New 
York." 

"  How  very  interesting.     I  never  heard 
of  a  situation  just  like  it  before." 


lion   of 
trusted 
:t  men. 
once  I 
iars,  so 
ey  gen- 
►n  Wall 
;  to  live 
sorrows 
,  it  will 
ewriter. 
me  and 
late.     I 
)efore  I 
:  on  the 
I    right 
odness 
,ch  New 

ir  heard 


CHAPTER    VI. 

The  big  vessel  lay  at  rest  in  New  Yoric 
Bay  waiting  for  the  boat  of  the  health 
officers  and  the  steamer  with  the  customs 
men  on  board.  The  passengers  were  in 
a  state  of  excitement  at  the  thought  of 
being  so  near  home.  The  captain,  who 
was  now  in  excellent  humour,  walked  the 
deck  and  chatted  affably  with  every  one. 
A  successful  voyage  had  been  completed. 
Miss  Jessop  feared  the  coming  of  the  cus- 
toms boat  as  much  as  Hodden  feared  the 
reporters.  If  anything,  he  was  the  more 
resigned  of  the  two.  What  American 
woman  ever  lands  on  her  native  shore 
without  trembling  before  the  revenue 
laws  of  her  country  ?  Kenan  Buel,  his 
arms  resting  on  the  bulwarks,  gazed  ab- 
sently at  the  green  hills  he  was  seeing 
for  the  first  time,  but  his  thoughts  were 
not  upon  them.  The  young  man  was  in 
a     quandary.      Should     he   venture,     or 


If 


In 


194 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


should  he  not,  that  was  the  question. 
Admitting,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  that 
she  cared  for  him,  what  had  he  to  offer  ? 
Merely  himself,  and  the  debt  still  unpaid 
on  his  first  book.  The  situation  was  the 
more  embarrassing  because  of  a  remark 
she  had  made  about  Englishmen  marry- 
ing for  money.  He  had  resented  that  on 
general  principles  when  he  heard  it,  but 
now  it  had  a  personal  application  that 
seemed  to  confront  him  whichever  way 
he  turned.  Besides,  wasn't  it  all  rather 
sudden,  from  an  insular  point  of  view  ? 
Of  course  they  did  things  with  great  ra- 
pidity in  America,  so  perhaps  she  would 
not  object  to  the  suddenness.  He  had 
no  one  to  consult,  and  he  felt  the  lack  of 
advice.  He  did  not  want  to  make  a  mis- 
take, neither  did  he  wish  to  be  laughed 
at.  Still,  the  laughing  would  not  matter 
if  everything  turned  out  right.  Anyhow, 
Miss  Jessop's  laugh  was  very  kindly.  He 
remembered  that  if  he  were  in  any  other 
difficulty  he  would  turn  quite  naturally  to 
her  for  advice,  although  he  had  known 
her  so  short  a  time,  and  he  regretted  that 
in  his  present  predicament  he  was  de- 
barred from  putting  the  case  before  her. 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


195 


estion. 
It,  that 
:  offer  ? 
unpaid 
vas  the 
remark 
marry- 
that  on 
I  it,  but 
on  that 
rer  way 
i  rather 
■    view  ? 
;reat  ra- 
e  would 
He  had 
lack  of 
e  a  mis- 
laughed 
t  matter 
\nyhow, 
ly.     He 
ny  other 
urally  to 
i  known 
tted  that 
was  de- 
fore  her. 


And  yet,  why  rot  ?  He  might  put  the 
supposititious  case  of  a  friend,  and  ask 
what  the  friend  ought  to  do.  He  dis- 
missed this  a  moment  later.  It  was  too 
much  Hke  what  people  did  in  a  novel,  and 
besides,  he  could  not  carry  it  through. 
She  would  see  through  the  sham  at  once. 
At  this  point  he  realised  that  he  was 
just  where  he  began. 

"  Dear  me,  Mr.  Buel,  how  serious  you 
look.  I  am  afraid  you  don't  approve  of 
America.  Are  you  sorry  the  voyage  is 
ended?" 

"  Yes,  I  am,"  answered  Buel,  earnestly. 
**  I  feel  as  if  I  had  to  begin  life  over 
again." 

"  And  are  you  afraid  ?  " 

"  A  little." 

"  I  am  disappointed  in  you.  I  thought 
you  were  not  afraid  of  anything." 

"You  were  disappointed  in  me  the  first 
day,  you  remember." 

"  So  I  was.     I  had  forgotten." 

"  Will  your  father  come  on  board  to 
meet  you  ? " 

"  It  depends  altogether  on  the  state  of 
the  market.  If  things  are  dull,  he  will 
very    likely    meet    nie    out  here.     If  the 


n 


i>  '\ 


t 


196 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


Street  is  brisk,  I  won't  see  him  till  he  ar- 
rives home  to-night.  If  medium,  he  will 
be  on  the  wharf  when  we  get  in." 

"And  when  you  meet  him  I  suppose 
you  will  know  whether  you  are  rich  or 
poor?" 

"  Oh,  certainly.  It  will  be  the  second 
thing  I  ask  him." 

"  When  you  know,  I  want  you  to  tell 
me.     Will  you  ?  " 

"Are  you  interested  in  knowing?" 

"  Very  much  so." 

"Then  I  hope  I  shall  be  rich." 

Mr.  Buel  did  not  answer.  He  stared 
gloomily  down  at  the  water  lapping  the 
iron  side  of  the  motionless  steamer.  The 
frown  on  his  brow  was  deep.  Miss 
Jessop  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  out 
of  the  corners  of  her  eyes.  Then  she 
said,  impulsively — 

"  I  know  that  was  mean.  I  apologise. 
I  told  you  I  did  not  like  to  apologise,  so 
you  may  know  how  sorry  I  am.  And, 
now  that  I  have  begun,  I  also  apologise 
for  all  the  flippant  things  I  have  said  dur- 
ing the  voyage,  and  for  my  frightful 
mendacity  to  poor  Mr.  Hodden,  who  sits 
there  so  patiently  and  picturesquely  wait- 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


197 


I  he  ar- 
he  will 

iuppose 
rich  or 

second 

I  to  tell 


r?" 


e  stared 
)ing  the 
r.     The 

Miss 
ent  out 
len   she 

ologise. 
gise,  so 
And, 
Dologise 
aid  dur- 
rightful 
fiho  sits 
ly  wait- 


ing  for  the   terrible   reporters.      Won't 
you  forgive  me  ? " 

Buel  was  not  a  ready  man,  and  he  hesi- 
tated just  the  smallest  fraction  of  a 
second  too  long. 

"  I  won't  ask  you  twice,  you  know," 
said  Miss  Jessop,  drawing  herself  up  with 
dignity. 

"  Don't — don't  go  I  "  cried  the  young 
man,  with  sudden  energy,  catching  her 
hand.  *'  I'm  an  unmannerly  boor.  13ut 
I'll  risk  everything  and  tell  you  the 
trouble.  I  don't  care  a —  I  don't  care 
whether  you  are  rich  or  poor.     I " 

Miss  Jessop  drew  away  her  hand. 

"  Oh,  there's  the  boat,  Mr.  Buel,  and 
there's  my  papa  on  the  upper  deck." 

She  waved  her  handkerchief  in  the  air 
in  answer  to  one  that  was  fluttering  on  the 
little  steamer.  Buel  saw  the  boat  cutting 
a  rapid  semicircle  in  the  bay  as  she 
rounded  to,  leaving  in  her  wake  a  long, 
curving  track  of  foam.  She  looked  ridic- 
ulously small  compared  with  the  great  ship 
she  was  approaching,  and  her  deck  seemed 
crowded. 

"  And  there  are  the  reporters  !  "  she 
cried  ;  "  ever  so  many  of   them.     I  guess 


!    ( 


198 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


li  j :  ym 


Mr.  Hodden  will  be  sorry  he  did  not  ac- 
cept my  offer  of  protection.  I  know  that 
young  man  who  is  waving  his  hand.  He 
was  on  the  Herald  when  I  left  ;  but  no 
one  can  say  what  paper  he's  writing  for 
now." 

As  the  boat  came  nearer  a  voice 
shouted — 

"  All  well,  Carrie  ?  " 

The  girl  nodded.  Her  eyes  and  her 
heart  were  too  full  for  speech.  Buel 
frowned  at  the  approaching  boat,  and 
cursed  its  inopportune  arrival.  He  was 
astonished  to  hear  some  one  shout  from 
her  deck — 

"  Hello,  Buel  !  " 

"Why,  there's  some  one  who  knows 
you  !  "  said  the  girl,  looking  at  him. 

Buel  saw  a  man  wave  his  hand,  and  au- 
tomatically he  waved  in  return.  After  a 
moment  he  realised  that  it  was  Brant  the 
publisher.  The  customs  officers  were 
first  on  board,  for  it  is  ordained  by  the 
law  that  no  foot  is  to  tread  the  deck  be- 
fore theirs  ;  but  the  reporters  made  a 
good  second. 

Miss  Jessop  rushed  to  the  gangway, 
leaving  Buel  alone. 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


199 


lot  ac- 
w  that 
i.  He 
3Ut  no 
ng  for 

voice 


nd  her 
Buel 
at,  and 
He  was 
)ut  from 


knows 
im. 

and  au- 

After  a 

rant  the 

were 

by  the 

deck  be- 

made   a 


rs 


;angway, 


"  Hello,  Cap  !  "  cried  one  of  the  young 
men  of  the  Press,  with  that  lack  of  re- 
spect for  the  dignitaries  of  this  earth 
which  is  characteristic  of  them.  '"  Had 
a  good  voyage  ?  " 

*'  Splendid,"  answered  the  captain,  with 
a  smile. 

"Where's  your  celebrity?  Trot  him  out." 

*'  I  believe  Mr.  Hodden  is  aft  some- 
where." 

"Oh, Hodden  I  "  cried   the  young 

man,  profanely  ;  "  he's  a  chestnut. 
Where's  Kenan  Buel  ? " 

The  reporter  did  not  wait  for  a  reply, 
for  he  saw  by  the  crowd  around  a  very 
flushed  young  man  that  the  victim  had 
been  found  and  cornered. 

"  Really,  gentlemen,"  said  the  embar- 
rassed Englishman,  "  you  have  made  a 
mistake.  It  is  Mr.  Hodden  you  want  to 
see.     I  will  take  you  to  him." 

"  Hodden's  played,"  said  one  of  the 
young  men  in  an  explanatory  way,  al- 
though Buel  did  not  understand  the  mean- 
ing of  the  phrase.  "  He's  petered  out ;  " 
which  addition  did  not  make  it  any 
plainer.  "  You're  the  man  for  our  money 
every  time." 


■ 


1 1 


■I'i ' 


m 


p  t^ 


200 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


'*  Break  away  there,  break  away  !  " 
cried  the  belated  Brant,  forcing  his  way 
through  them  and  taking  Buel  by  the 
hand.  "  There's  no  rush,  you  know,  boys. 
Just  let  me  have  a  minute's  talk  with  Mr. 
Huel.  It  will  be  all  right.  I  have  just 
set  up  the  champagne  down  in  the  saloon. 
It's  my  treat,  you  know.  There's  tables 
down  there,  and  we  can  do  things  com- 
fortably. I'll  guarantee  to  produce  Buel 
inside  of  five  minutes." 

Brant  linked  arms  with  the  young 
man,  and  they  walked  together  down  the 
deck. 

"  Do  you  know  what  this  means, 
Buel  ?"  he  said,  waving  his  hand  towards 
the  retreating  newspaper  men. 

"  I  suppose  it  means  that  you  have  got 
them  to  interview  me  for  business  pur- 
poses.    I  can  think  of  no  other  reason." 

"  I've  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  That 
shows  just  how  little  you  know  about  the 
American  Press.  Why,  all  the  money 
I've  got  wouldn't  bring  those  men  out 
here  to  interview  anybody  who  wasn't 
worth  interviewing.  It  means  fame  ;  it 
means  wealth  ;  it  means  that  you  have 
turned    the   corner  ;  it    means   you  have 


# 


THE  HERALDS  uF  FAME. 


20I 


way  ! 
lis  way 
by  the 
V,  boys, 
ith  Mr. 
Lve  just 
saloon, 
s  tables 
gs  corn- 
ice Buel 

young 
own  the 

means, 
towards 

ave  got 
ess  pur- 
eason." 
It.     That 
Ibout  the 
money 
en   out 
wasn't 
|fame  ;  it 
rou  have 
rou  have 


the  world  before  you  ;  it  means  every- 
thing. Those  young  men  are  not  re- 
porters to  you  ;  they  are  the  heralds  of 
fame,  my  boy.  A  few  of  them  may  get 
there  themselves  some  day,  but  it  means 
that  you  have  got  there  now.  Do  you 
realise  that  ? " 

"  Hardly.  I  suppose,  then,  the  book 
has  been  a  success  ?" 

"A  success?  It's  been  a  cyclone.  I've 
been  fighting  pirates  ever  since  it  came 
out.  You  see,  I  took  the  precaution  to 
write  some  things  in  the  book  myself." 

Buel  looked  alarmed. 

"And  then  I  copyrighted  the  whole 
thing,  and  they  can't  tell  which  is  mine 
and  which  is  yours  until  they  get  a  hold 
of  the  English  edition.  That's  why  I 
did  not  wait  for  your  corrections." 

"  We  are  collaborators,  then  ? " 

"  You  bet.  I  suppose  some  of  the 
English  copies  are  on  this  steamer  ? 
I'm  going  to  try  to  have  them  seized  by 
the  customs  if  I  can.  I  think  I'll  make 
a  charge  of  indecency  against  the  book." 

"  Good  heavens  !  "  cried  Buel,  aghast, 
"  There  is  nothing  of  that  in  it." 

**  I  am  afraid  not,"  said  Brant,  regret- 


I      ! 


w;i\i'' 


\    : 


202 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


•ra\ 


fully.  "  But  it  will  give  us  a  week  more 
at  least  before  it  is  decided.  Anyhow, 
I'm  ready  for  the  pirates,  even  if  they  do 
come  out.  I've  printed  a  cheap  paper 
edition,  100,000  copies,  and  they  are  now 
in  the  hands  of  all  the  news  companies — 
sealed  up,  of  course — from  New  York  to 
San  Francisco.  The  moment  a  pirate 
shows  his  head,  I'll  telegraph  the  word 
*rip'  all  over  the  United  States,  and 
they  will  rip  open  the  packages  and  flood 
the  market  with  authorised  cheap  edi- 
tions before  the  pirates  leave  New  York. 
Oh,  L.  F.  Brant  was  not  born  the  day 
before  yesterday." 

"  I  see  he  wasn't,"  said  Buel,  smiling. 

"  Now  you  come  down  and  be  intro- 
duced to  the  newspaper  boys.  You'll 
find  them  jolly  nice  fellows." 

"  In  a  moment.  You  go  down  and 
open  the  champagne.  I'll  follow  you.  I 
— I  want  to  say  a  few  words  to  a  friend 
on  board." 

"  No  tricks  now,  Buel.  You're  not  go- 
ing to  try  to  dodge  them  ?  " 

"  I'm  a  man  of  my  word,  Mr.  Brant. 
Don't  be  afraid." 

"And  now,"  said  the  other,  putting  his 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


203 


ek  more 
(Vnyhow, 

they  do 
p  paper 
are  now 
panics — 

York  to 
a  pirate 
he  word 
tes,  and 
ind  flood 
jeap  edi- 
2W  York. 

the   day 

railing. 
36  intro- 
You'll 

0wn  and 
V  you.  I 
)  a  friend 

e  not  go- 

r.   Brant. 

itting  his 


hands  on  the  young  man's  shoulders, 
"  you'll  be  kind  to  them.  Don't  put  on 
too  much  side,  you  know.  You'll  for- 
give me  for  mentioning  this,  but  some- 
times your  countrymen  do  the  high  and 
mighty  act  a  little  too  much.     It  doesn't 

pay." 

"I'll  do  my  best.  But  I  haven't  the 
slightest  idea  what  to  say.  In  fact,  I've 
nothing  to  say." 

"Oh,  that's  all  right.  Don't  you 
worry.  Just  have  a  talk  with  them, 
that's  all  they  want.  You'll  be  paralysed 
when  the  interviews  come  out  to-morrow  ; 
but  you'll  get  over  that." 

"  You're  sure  the  book  is  a  success  on 
its  own  merits,  and  not  through  any 
newspaper  puffing  or  that  sort  of  thing, 
you  know  ?" 

"  Why,  certainly.  Of  course  our  firm 
pushed  it.  We're  not  the  people  to  go 
to  sleep  over  a  thing.  It  might  not  have 
done  quite  so  well  with  a  ^  other  house  ; 
but  I  told  you  in  London  I  thought  it 
was  bound  to  go.  The  pushing  was 
quite  legitimate." 

"  In  that  case  I  shall  be  down  to  see 
the  reporters  in  a  very  few  minutes." 


204 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


/■  i 


fiHi 


Although  Buel  kept  up  his  end  of  the 
conversation  with  Brant,  his  mind  was 
not  on  it.  Miss  Jessop  and  her  father 
were  walking  near  them  ;  snatches  of 
their  talk  came  to  him,  and  his  attention 
wandered  in  spite  of  himself.  The  Wall 
Street  man  seemed  to  be  trying  to  reas- 
sure his  daught'^r,  and  impart  to  her 
some  of  the  enthusiasm  he  himself  felt. 
He  patted  her  affectionately  on  the  shoul- 
der now  and  then,  and  she  walked  with 
springy  step  very  close  to  his  side. 

"  It's  all  right,  Carrie,"  he  said,  "  and 
as  safe  as  the  bank." 

"  Which  bank,  papa?" 

Mr.  Jessop  laughed. 

"  The  Chemical  Bank,  if  you  like ;  or, 
as  you  are  just  over  from  the  other  side, 
perhaps  I  should  say  the  Bank  of  Eng- 
land." 

"  And  did  you  take  out  every  cent  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  and  I  wished  there  was  double 
the  amount  to  take.  It's  a  sure  thing. 
There's  no  speculation  about  it.  There 
isn't  a  bushel  of  wheat  in  the  country 
that  isn't  in  the  combination.  It  would 
have  been  sinful  not  to  have  put  every 
cent   I   could   scrape    together    into    it. 


THE  HER/tLDS  OF  F/iME. 


20! 


Why,  Carrie,  I'll  give  you  a  quarter  of  a 
million  when  the  deal  comes  off." 

Carrie  shook  her  head. 

"  I've  been  afraid  of  wheat  corners," 
she  said,  "ever  since  I  was  a  baby. 
Still,  I've  no  right  to  say  anything.  It's 
all  your  liioney,  anyway  ;  and  I've  just 
been  playing  that  it  was  mine.  But  I  do 
wish  you  had  left  a  hundred  dollars  for  a 
typewriter." 

Mr.  Jessop  laughed  again  in  a  very 
hearty  and  confident  way. 

"  Don't  you  fret  about  that,  Carrie. 
I've  got  four  type  machines  down  at  the 
office.  I'll  let  you  have  your  choice  be- 
fore the  cr.-vsh  comes.  Now  I'll  go  down 
and  see  those  customs  men.  There  won't 
be  any  trouble.     I  know  them." 

It  was  when  Mr.  Jessop  departed  that 
Buel  suddenly  became  anxious  to  get  rid 
of  Brant.  When  he  had  succeeded,  he 
walked  over  to  where  the  girl  leaned  on 
the  bulwark. 

"Well?"  he  said,  taking  his  place  be- 
side her. 

"Well  !  "  she  answered,  without  look- 
ing up  at  him. 

"  Which  is  it  ?     Rich  or  poor  ?  " 


206 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


1   \l 


'\  i  i 


V  I 


\\'i\  r^H 


"  Rich,  I  should  say,  by  the  way  the 
reporters  flocked  about  you.  That 
means,  I  suppose,  that  your  book  has 
been  a  great  success,  and  that  you  are 
going  to  make  your  fortune  out  of  it. 
Let  me  congratulate  you,  Mr.  Buel." 

"  Wait  a  minute.  I  don't  know  yet 
whether  I  am  to  be  congratulated  or  not ; 
that  will  depend  on  you.  Of  course  you 
know  I  was  not  speaking  of  myself  when 
I  asked  the  question." 

"  Oh,  you  meant  me,  did  you  ?  Well, 
I  can't  tell  for  some  time  to  come,  but  I 
have  my  fears.  I  hear  the  click  of  the 
typewriter  in  the  near  future." 

"Caroline,  I  am  very  serious  about 
this.  I  don't  believe  you  think,  or  could 
think,  that  I  care  much  about  riches.  I 
have  been  on  too  intimate  terms  with 
poverty  to  be  afraid  of  it.  Of  course  my 
present  apparent  success  has  given  me 
courage,  and  I  intend  to  use  that  courage 
while  it  lasts.  I  have  been  rather  afraid 
of  your  ridicule,  but  I  think,  whether  you 
were  rich  or  poor,  or  whether  my  book 
was  a  success  or  a  failure,  I  would  have 
risked  it,  and  told  you  I  loved  you." 

The  girl  did  not  look  up  at  him,  and 


THE  HERALDS  OF  FAME. 


207 


did  not  answer  for  a  moment.  Then  she 
said,  in  a  voice  that  he  had  to  bend  very 
close  to  hear — 

"  I — I  would  have  been  sorry  all  my 
life  if  you  hadn't— risked  it.  " 


THE    END, 


i  ! 


i      I  f, 


Ih      I 


J  •  i 


^llll  a 


4r 


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A  charming  little  love-story  by  one 
of  the  most  promising  of  the  younger 
English  writers. 

Each  volume,  24mo,  basket  cloth,  tastefully 
stamped  with  silver,  50  cents. 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  mail  postpaid. 

FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY, 

PUBLISHERS. 
27  &  29,  West  23d  Street,  New  York. 


Zhc  Bijou  Serlea 


B  aSubble.    L.  B.  Walford. 

B  (Sluestion  ot  Color,    f.  c.  philips. 
Cbitton'0  jflBarrlage.    gyp. 

private ^inlter,  etc.  John  Strange  Winteh 
JSobemia  IfnVaDcD.     James  L.  Ford. 
B  IKIlbite  JBabg,    James  Welsh. 
ZEbe  IReO  Spell.    Francis  Gribble. 

From  T/i£  International  Dictionary. 

**  Bijou ;  a  word  applied  to  anything  small 
and  of  elegant  workmanship." 


— o- 


Jf rebericft  H»  StoRes  Compani? 

publidbera, 'View  |?orIt 


NTEft 


11 


